Sleeping Awake
by aWorldWithOctobers
Summary: Let's end this story the right way. Or at least, how I'd end it. You can probably guess how it begins...but keep going.
1. Chapter 1

"Mitch? Got word from the northern watch. More rain's headed in so we better start closin' up the satellites."

An old man sitting at a very rustic desk looked up from his newspaper and chewed a bit on his pipe. None of this was news to him but Mitch Yost was not known for taking life at a fast pace so he had delayed shuttering the satellite huts for as long as possible.

He sighed at the prospect of doing actual work. "Alright," he said, "Go get Josh. He's out back, drawing again. You two can hike over to the huts in the east to close them up, so they don't get flooded. Oh, and speakin' of Josh, the mounties finally sent us his things. Certainly took them long enough, not sure what they were doin' with 'em. Put them on the table next to his cot."

The young man who delivered the news to Mitch looked glassy eyed. Ignoring the instructions regarding Josh's belongings, he was fixated on the vague hut shuttering instructions. There were literally thousands of "huts to the east," as there were stations like this one set up all over the frontier lands, used by the logging company for scouting, to make sure that loggers in the area wouldn't be threatened by wild animals, gangs of robbers, or weather. It definitely was not exciting work, "manning the huts," as it was called, but it was a steady salary which was all most people who did it cared about.

Mitch returned to his paper for a moment, then after noticing that the young man wasn't moving, he said, "Well? Whatchou waitin' for, go get Josh and you two boys start closin' up the eastern huts." He said in a slightly louder voice.

The young man still looked a bit blank, but he had no authority to argue. He nodded, then ran out the front door of the hut. Mitch shook his head, made some remark under his breath about the younger generations not having any work ethic, then returned to his reading.

About twenty meters away from the hut sat another young man. He was tall and strongly built, which made him perfect for the work they did. And he did it without question, because a while back he had been hurt in...something. He didn't remember it. It left him with a fractured skull and a mind nearly devoid of memories. He had spent five months in bed, not knowing who or where he was. The only things he remembered were the pain of his recovery, and his dreams.

Right now, he was drawing. He loved to draw and did it at every opportunity. It was his only pastime. He never asked for anything except charcoal pencils and paper. And the others gave them to him, always rolling their eyes. Because his drawings were almost always exactly the same: occasionally a big fat basset hound lying on the ground, sometimes an older woman surrounded by two or three men about the same age, or on other occasions a different older woman riding a horse in the wilderness, and once or twice an empty field of land with nothing particularly remarkable to it. But the vast majority of his drawings were of a young woman. A young woman he saw in his dreams almost every night. He had no idea who she was or how he knew her, he just felt compelled to draw her. His mind was too slow to ask why. He never asked why about anything.

"Hey Joshie! Time to close up the huts, storms comin'."

He packed up his pencils and paper without question. He never argued with the people here. In fact, he rarely even spoke. He didn't have much to say. When you have no memories, you have no life experience from which to draw conversational topics. He just worked, ate, drew, slept, and dreamt of the woman and all the other subjects of his drawings. Day after day, always the same. And today was no different.

* * *

Josh removed his shirt after the day's work; it had been soaked in the chilly rainy weather. He tossed it onto a nearby chair for it to dry overnight. He only had two shirts, both flannel, one undershirt that was coming apart at the seams, and a sleeping shirt. He removed his tattered undershirt as well, paying absolutely no attention to the scars on his chest and arms that its removal revealed. He never paid them any mind. Received in the same rockslide that damaged his brain, they said. He never asked what rockslide they were referring to, as he didn't remember it, and wasn't even sure what a rockslide was.

The three other men he shared the tiny cabin with always regarded him as a little off. "Invalid," they called him. "Touched in the head." "Charity case." He rarely spoke and seemed to have no personality. A consequence of the injuries he had sustained years before - it seemed to have made him a complete blank slate. He never showed any interest in anything except drawing, and ate most foods with perfect indifference to the taste. The only things he seemed to enjoy even slightly were roast beef sandwiches.

He undid the tie that held his long hair back in a ponytail and shook his hair loose. He never cut it after his injuries so now it reached past his shoulders. He then reached down, splashed his face with water from a nearby wash basin, and put his sleepshirt on.

The others ignored him. They were used to his dead silence and blank personality. A couple of them did take notice though, of the bag placed on his table, and they slowly walked up to it, wondering if they could rummage through it. If the stuff belonged to him, he wouldn't want any of it ("unless it's charcoal" one of them joked), so there might be something they could sell. Pay was terrible and they were always looking for extra cash.

"Hey Adam, what's in this?" They inquired of the young man who had been the unfortunate recipient of the vague hut instructions earlier.

Adam looked up. "Oh, the things that were in Josh's pack the day of the rockslide. The RCMP finally sent them to him."

"After this long? That was two years ago wuddn't it?"

"They said they had trouble finding him. They knew he had been in Silverton, but there ain't exactly a lot of communication out here."

The others nodded, satisfied with that explanation. They began to take things out of the bag. Mostly it was pretty standard mountie pack stuff: a very tattered old map, some broken pencils, matches, firestarters, blank sheets of paper that were weathered and now pretty useless, and a tiny canteen. However, they did also find what looked like they had been letters, but the ink had rubbed off and now they were illegible. And there was one more item.

"Hey Adam, you see this?"

Adam wasn't super interested, as nothing Josh owned could be all that riveting. Still, he walked over to see them holding a small wooden box.

"What is it?" one of the others asked.

"Let me look at it." Adam reached for it, but not before glancing over his shoulder at Josh to see if he was reacting at all. Josh was under the blankets on his cot, facing away from them. He appeared to be asleep already. 'No surprise there, I guess,' Adam thought.

Adam felt the box for a bit. It was banged up and chipped in a few places but still mostly in tact, incredible considering it had been through a rockslide. A nasty rockslide too, he had heard, one that had completely crushed a man until he was unrecognizable and left Josh practically braindead.

Adam then opened the box. It was rusty from lack of movement and use, but even so, the men could hear it struggling to play its tune. "A music box!" one of them exclaimed. "Lemme see."

Another man grabbed it from Adam. He didn't fight him but he was slightly annoyed. Still, he didn't quite see why Josh had been carrying around a music box. Josh barely appeared to even hear, let alone appreciate music.

The three of them were so distracted by looking at the box they didn't even notice that Josh had gotten out of bed and was slowly walking towards them. So transfixed were they that it was only when he was right next to them, reaching for the box himself, that they realized he was there. And they all instantly became very alarmed. Josh didn't do things like this. And he was a lot bigger than they were and had a stormy look on his face. Josh was most definitely not a violent man, he even seemed to have a soft spot for dogs, but he looked like he could more than hold his own in a fight if he wanted to.

They all watched him as he too turned the box over in his hands. He studied it as if it were under a magnifying glass, which was a terrifying sight to the others, they had never seen him look serious, or express any emotion at all for that matter. Now he was mesmerized, practically in a trance, as he looked at it with an intensity that almost seemed otherworldly.

And then he opened it. His stare became even more intense as he listened to the music that it played. He didn't know when or where, but he had heard this before. So he kept listening to it, kept staring at all. His eyes narrowed. His jaw clenched. His eyebrows furrowed. Every muscle in his body appeared to tense up.

None of the others knew quite what to do and they looked nervously at each other, waiting for one of them to make a move that the others could follow. After practically running to the other side of the room and freezing there in shock and fear, they all looked at each other, then one by one, slowly crept over towards him. He didn't move a muscle as they took one step, then another, then another, the floorboards creaking under their feet.

They had just about reached him when suddenly, he slammed the box closed and gripped it in his hands. He turned to the others and looked them dead in the eyes.

"Where am I?" he said.

* * *

"Just, settle down Joshua."

Jack sighed an exasperated sigh. "Look, I already told you, my name is not Joshua Miller. It's Jack Thornton. Constable Jack Thornton, I'm with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police."

Now it was Old Man Mitch's turn to sigh. He leaned languidly back in his chair, reached for his pipe, crossed one leg over the other and just generally didn't appear to be taking this very seriously at all. Jack had a sudden burning desire to punch him, but he figured that probably wouldn't get him anywhere.

"I need a telegraph, now. I need to send a message."

Mitch glanced up at him, looking very bored. That was a sharp contrast to everyone else, who all huddled together but peered around a nearby corner. Josh had very suddenly and dramatically come to life. But he kept saying really strange things. Like that his name wasn't Josh.

"You need to send a telegram to whom, exactly?"

"My wife. Or a friend of mine. Anyone, just someone I know, just so they know I'm here and that I'm on my way home."

This was the most that any of them had ever heard Josh speak, but Mitch was the only one who didn't react. He just kept chewing on his pipe.

"You have a wife, son?" Mitch asked sarcastically.

"Yes," Jack replied. "I have a wife and she's probably very worried about me. Who knows how long I was here, I need to let her know I'm okay."

Mitch leaned back in his chair, still chewing on his pipe. Jack was very short on patience at the moment and that pipe was ripe for a swatting.

"Okay, so let me get this all straight now." Mitch took his pipe out of his mouth and used it to point at Jack. "You say your name ain't Josh, but instead it's Jack? And that you're a mountie?"

"Yes, and yes. I don't even know where I am exactly, or how I got here."

"Welp," Mitch said with a deep languid intake of air. "You son, are in the employment of the Litchfield-Northwest Logging Company and you're here as a laborer. You ain't a mountie, though you tried to be. You lasted all of I think four days of recruitment before that rockslide turned you into a dern invalid."

Rockslide. Jack had no memory of a rockslide. His mind, though mostly clear at this point, was still fuzzy in certain areas.

"I remember the recruitment trip, I took new recruits out for training. But I don't remember a rockslide."

"Welp, there certainly was one. You've got the scars to prove it. And ye had a fractured skull that put you in bed for months."

'_Months?!_' Jack thought. He had been in bed with a fractured skull for months? He reached up to his head, pausing for a second when he noticed that his hair was ridiculously long. '_Gotta get that taken care of_,' he said to himself. But sure enough, he could feel a laceration scar that stretched from his left temple all the way to the center of the back of his neck. It was well healed though, and he had seen injuries like that before. They didn't heal completely in five months.

It finally occured to him to ask a particular question.

"What day is this?" He said, looking at Mitch with intensity. Mitch looked back at him with a decided lack of intensity.

"September 14. September 14, 1916."

It hadn't been five months. It had been two years.

* * *

Jack paced around the small lumber hut. He had insisted that they wire someone at the nearest town to ask for information regarding transport. They complied, but they insisted themselves that they contact the RCMP regarding information about the character Jack Thornton that he now seemed so convinced he suddenly was. He happily agreed, he thought he might have been marked as MIA, and wanted information about his last assignment, seeing as he didn't remember much about it. All he remembered was 18 year old recruits doing 18 year old things (ie., being annoying), some terrible food, and bad weather.

It felt like it was taking forever though. He knew he was just impatient, but...two years. Two years lost. Two years of complete memory loss, of not knowing who he was or where he was. His case would be fascinating to him if it weren't actually him involved.

He saw in his peripheral vision that three young men, probably a few years younger than he was, were loitering around the door to the hut. He smiled politely at them, which made them start, as if he had just raised his fist. He looked confused at that sight, though he did have vague recollections of working with them in the forest on...something. Logging perhaps? He wasn't sure. It was still pretty foggy. Even so though, he smiled again, and this time, they nervously smiled back.

It took hours, but Old Man Mitch (as Jack learned he was called, minus the "Old Man" moniker) finally did come back, carrying papers. "Welp, we got the information that you wanted, and the information that we wanted. Took their time gettin' it to us though." Jack certainly agreed with that. It had been practically an eternity.

"O-kay, so, first things first."

The old man reached for the papers in front of him, in no rush to start speaking. Jack crossed his arms impatiently.

"We did find some information on Jack Thornton, but he sure ain't you. Jack Thornton was killed just about two years ago in a rockslide while conducting new recruit training exercises. And no wonder, with them doing them in the hills to the south o' here in the springtime, not sure who came up with that bright idea."

He put the papers down and looked up at Jack, who suddenly appeared very, very pale and had his mouth agape. "Presumed dead?" He stammered out.

"Presumed nothing. They found Constable Thornton. Well, sort of. Parts of him."

Jack's eyes widened. The rockslide must have been horrific.

The old man chewed on his pipe and looked at Jack dubiously. "Constable Thornton died two years ago, yes. They say he pushed two new recruits - one of which was you, though you look a lil' old to be a freshie - out of the way of the rockslide, but was caught up in it himself. His remains, or what was left of them anyway, were delivered to his widow at his original post, a place called uh..." he flipped the papers around for a moment, "Hope Valley."

Jack felt like he was going to be sick. "His widow..."

"Yes, a Mrs. Elizabeth Thornton. The remains were delivered to her, and were buried with full RCMP honors, as befitting a hero." The old man said that final word "hero" in a way that made it clear he was completely indifferent to the whole story and was just reading it off of the paper. "She now receives a full widows pension."

Some good news at last. That meant that she hadn't remarried in the last two years. Widows lost their pension if and when they remarried. He looked down at the floor and smiled slightly.

"And, she also receives an additional dependent child stipend."

Jack looked up.

"Dependent child?"

The old man flipped the papers around again, looking for the information. "One son, born eight months after the death of his father."

This time, Jack really was sick. He froze for a second, then ran to the door, rushed outside, and wretched.

One he finished he could hear Old Man Mitch laughing at him. He sat down on the wet forest floor, trying to catch his breath and spitting out the last bits of vomit that remained in his mouth. He ignored the laughter and opened his eyes but didn't raise them. His gaze remained fixed on the ground as he panted.

He couldn't decide if he was overjoyed or horrified. 'A son,' he thought. 'I have a son.'

A door opened, the hinges creaking and boots landing on the wooden floor outside the hut. The old man, indifferent as ever, asked, "You alright there?"

Jack didn't respond. He just kept breathing hard. A million things were flowing through his brain: old memories that had come rushing back, along with new information. He was a father. He was still a husband. And he was dead, apparently.

"Now, for the info that you asked for." Mitch continued, ignoring the fact that Jack was still on all fours on the ground, leaning over a pile of vomit and staring off into space. "Transport. The short answer is, transport ain't gonna happen just yet. There've been a lotta rains lately - the same kinda weather that caused your rockslide, incidentally."

Jack was getting angry. This was a lot, too much for even his normally patient countenance to take. '_I know what causes rockslides, idiot._' He thought. He wasn't sure why he had taken recruits to a heavily flooded area though, if that is indeed what happened. He would know better than that.

He finally pulled himself up to standing and told them, clearly and loudly, "Jack Thornton did not die two years ago. I am Jack Thornton. You need to telegram my wife and let her know that I am here. And I need a horse or a wagon or whatever so that I can get home." He stopped speaking suddenly and started to look around. "Where is this, anyway?"

"This place? The definition of the middle of nowhere, son." The old man laughed, impressed with his own terrible joke. When he saw Jack's eyes shooting daggers at him, he then replied with a little more tact, "We're about three days outside of Silverton. That's the closest town."

Jack knew Silverton. It was a week's ride from there to Hope Valley. He didn't remember taking the recruits out this far and didn't understand how he wound up in a wooden hut in the middle of nowhere in the pine barrens of the Northwestern territories, but he could figure that out later.

"Alright then. I need a horse. And some basic survival rations for the trip to Silverton. Not much, just some matches and the like. From there I can leave the horse, along with payment for the rental, and I'll be on my way."

Mitch chewed his pipe and looked Jack up and down. Riding to Silverton in this weather was crazy.

"I ain't givin' you a horse in this weather. You'll have to wait until the rains die down."

"Then I'll go on foot. I'm not waiting any longer." That remark made everyone, even the frightened looking young men, laugh. Old Man Mitch laughed the heartiest of all, a loud, incredibly irritating guffaw. Jack really, really wanted to punch him.

"You won't make it half a day on foot." He said between his chuckles.

Jack smiled for the first time. "Watch me."


	2. Chapter 2

'I really need to exercise more,' Bill thought as he ran to the door of the building labeled "Royal Canadian Mounted Police." His heart pounded in his chest so heavily that he felt he would explode, and his breath was more wheezing and coughing than breathing.

Then again, the pounding heart and shortness of breath had been his constant companions the past five days. The week had gone from perfectly mundane to absolutely mad. The Hope Valley telegraph office had received an incomplete telegram with a message that no one could quite decipher. It had read, "J THRNTN FN". As that made absolutely no sense to anyone, they had tried to contact the telegraph office it came from. It was in a small town called Silverton, about a week away from Hope Valley. It was a former silver mine (hence the name) that had been converted to a logging operation. But no one could get a hold of the office. The telegraph operators in Hope Valley blamed it on bad weather; they figured some wires may have been damaged, possibly by falling trees. Or rockslides.

Still, Bill Avery couldn't shake a strong feeling he had developed about that telegram. The shortened words "J THRNTN" were unmistakeable: Jack Thornton. He didn't know what the "FN" was but he surmised that it meant "found," and that they had found something that had belonged to Jack. Some trinket, or letter. Amazing that they still could after two years. But he knew it would mean the world to Elizabeth if he could bring it back to Hope Valley, as she had so little that had belonged to him. Poor woman hadn't even been allowed to see his body when it was brought home. "Too distressing," the RCMP had said. They had nailed the coffin shut. Bill didn't say it out loud but he knew it was a good thing that they had done that. He had seen the human toll of catastrophic rockslides, and it wasn't pretty.

He had tried to contact Elizabeth after the town received the telegram, but she was away in Hamilton visiting family, and more than one person noted that the telegram was considered obsolete in Hamilton anyway so it was unlikely that she would receive any message they sent. Hope Valley had exactly two phones, but they didn't know the number to dial to reach Elizabeth. Or reach anyone, for that matter. Hope Valley's telephones saw very little use.

He stopped a moment to catch his breath, then quickly ran a hand through his hair and tugged at his jacket to straighten the lapels. Not that it made much difference; his clothes were dirty and damp from the five day's ride. His poor horse, he had taken a seven day trip and shaved it down by two days. He was that anxious to see what the RCMP had found.

After taking one last deep breath, he opened the door. As he walked in he saw two men in bright red serge looking at some papers on a nearby desk. They looked up at him.

"Good day, Constables, I'm uh -"

"BILL!" a voice shouted behind him, startling him. He turned around to look, and...

His eyes widened. His mouth dropped open. His heart, which had begun to slow down after his run, now pounded faster than ever. He stopped breathing.

"Bill! Bill Avery! Ha-ha, it is you!"

'_No,_' Bill thought. '_No. That's not possible._'

He stared forward, refusing to move. It couldn't be possible, it *wasn't* possible, and yet...he saw a man, locked in a jail cell, who looked like Jack. Or rather, a slightly-older-than-he-remembered Jack if he had been cast in a school play as Tarzan.

Jack was grinning from ear to ear, clutching the bars of the cell. He turned his gaze to look at the two mounties who had been poring over the papers on the desk. "He'll tell you."

The two mounties walked over to Bill, who still hadn't moved a muscle. "Uh, sir, this man," one of them said, gesturing at Jack, "he arrived here about two days ago. He said he had gotten here on foot from the scouting huts the loggers use up in the hills. Which seems ridiculous if you ask me," his voice trailing off into derision. "The weather would make those trails impossible."

"Only for some," Jack responded. The mounties glared at him. The fact that he was locked up combined with their sour expressions made it pretty clear this had not been a congenial visit.

Bill still hadn't said anything. The other mountie then spoke up, "Sir, this man claims he's a Constable Jack Thornton. Now, we telegrammed the loggers who man those huts -"

"I hate those guys. Especially that one they call Mitch." the other interrupted.

After a quick side glance that said 'I completely agree', the one who had spoken first then continued, "- and they said that he's Joshua Miller, a former mountie recruit who had been seriously injured in the same accident that killed Constable Thornton."

Bill was still silent, staring at the man who so greatly resembled his friend. The man in the cell, in a joking voice, said, "Bill, do I look dead to you?"

After an awkward silence, one of the mounties said, "We had a doctor in the town who came by who also identified this man as Joshua Miller -" he was then interrupted by Jack yelling an expletive, which the mountie yelled back at him. Then he continued, "but this man," he said, pointing at the man in the cell, "insisted that no one here could truly confirm what Joshua Miller looked like - the doctor had only seen Joshua Miller following his injuries, not before them. So he insisted that we telegram someone from Hope Valley to make sure we had the info about Jack Thornton correct. We sent this telegram a few days back."

He then tried to hand a small piece of paper to Bill. Bill barely looked at it, but saw that it read "J THRNTN FND KIA 2YRS, PLS CNFRM." It was the rest of the partial message that they had received in Hope Valley.

"Now, since we never got a response from you all, we were just going to send him back up to the huts, but he got...restless at that idea."

Jack chuckled slightly. "How is Constable Newton's eye doing?" He said puckishly.

"Quiet you," one of them said. He turned to Bill and said, "He nearly took one of our Constable's eyes out. It's what got him in there."

Bill was still silent.

The Constables were getting a little irritated by Bill's catatonic state, so their voices were a little louder when they said, "Can you confirm sir, that this man is Joshua Miller?"

Bill couldn't confirm that. He didn't know Joshua Miller. Joshua Miller wasn't from Hope Valley, and he didn't know where they had gotten that impression. He had no idea who Joshua Miller was, let alone what he looked like.

But he did know Jack Thornton.

He finally broke himself out of his trance and took very slow steps towards the cell. The Tarzan-Jack man was still holding the bars, the biggest smile across his face, looking back at his longtime friend as he walked.

Bill finally arrived at the front of the bars and stared into the man's eyes. The man stared back at him. The look in his eyes was so complex: there was hope, joy, sorrow, despair, probably every emotion a human being could feel was there. And Bill couldn't deny the color of the man's eyes, it was that same shade of hazel-brown that Jack had. The jawline, even though it was now covered by a short traveler's beard, was unmistakeable. His height was the same. His overall build was the same. The teeth were the same. The only things that Bill didn't recognize were the small hints of crows feet around the eyes, and the comically long hair.

"It can't be." He finally whispered.

Jack got a surge of energy at the sound of his friend and practically jumped up and down. "Yes it can, Bill, it can. It's me. Tell them, Bill."

"Tell us what?" the mounties said behind him.

Another long pause occurred before Bill stammered out, "Jack?"

* * *

"Okay, let's back up here a second."

Bill was infuriated. Happy, and more than a little shocked, but also infuriated. The two mounties, whose names he had learned were Constable Richard Keller and Constable Frank Gray, were doing their best to give him an explanation, but it wasn't a very good one.

The one called Frank sighed. This was the third time they had tried to explain, and the third time they were interrupted.

"Alright, so so far we've covered this: after the rockslide, witnesses said they saw Jack Thornton crushed right after he pushed two RCMP recruits out of the way of a rockslide. Those two recruits were identified. One of them sustained only minor injuries, but the other received a fractured skull that left him an invalid."

Frank nodded. Then Richard chimed in. "Yes, and Recruit Miller," he paused and looked up at Jack, who looked like he wanted to strangle his two jailers, "was treated for those injuries at Silverton Hospital just down the street from here. The doctor who stitched up his skull is still there, and we brought him here when this man showed up a few days ago. He remembered him and positively identified him as Joshua Miller."

Bill heard Jack say the same expletive, in a mutter this time. Jack had been let out of the cell, which Bill wanted at the time but now wasn't sure if that had been a good idea. He looked positively murderous.

"But how did you know he was Joshua Miller in the first place, if he was unconscious after the rockslide and no one had met him before?" Bill said.

"His tags. He was wearing the tags inscribed with the name, 'Joshua Miller.'"

Jack had started pacing. His breath was fast and audible, the breath of fury. Bill knew he needed to calm down but there was no way he was going to be able to tell him to do so without getting his jaw broken by Jack's fist. Which he kind of thought was fair. He didn't think he'd be able to calm down either in a situation like this.

He decided the best course of action was just to keep going. "Okay, so he was wearing tags inscribed Joshua Miller, but, he had a head injury. Wasn't there any family or anything that could positively identify him?"

"Well, therein lies the rub," replied Richard. "Joshua Miller is -"

"Was." Jack boomed.

"- *was* a twenty-eight year old recruit. And we don't have much of a record of him. We think he's from Hope Valley, or the surrounding area, but he didn't have any relatives or family, and the RCMP couldn't find any record of any friends. But that's kind of what the tags are for, so we can identify them without needing a relative."

"Phenomenal system, except when someone is wearing someone else's tags." Jack interjected sarcastically, his voice getting louder. Jack's joy at seeing his friend had melted into anger. Anger at being stuck in a jail cell for two days and anger at losing two years of his life to a case of mistaken identity.

"Which wouldn't be an issue if everyone wears their own tags." Richard barked back at him. Jack couldn't argue with that one. And as a normally ultra-by-the-book Mounted Policeman, he couldn't understand how he had been wearing someone else's tags, and someone else was wearing his. That was preposterous.

"Now, we did find one record for Joshua Miller. Apparently his father had been a miner at one point, which we think is the connection to Hope Valley, but then switched to be a logger for the company that sets up in the hills above this town. He died of fever long ago, but he had been employed by a man named Mitch Yost, who is something of a supervisor up in the hills. He's part of something called the "Wildlife and Severe Weather Monitoring Service" for the company."

Jack sneered. "He's part of the Pipe Smoking and Daily Napping Service."

Bill glanced at him then motioned for them to keep going.

"So, we contacted Mr. Yost, and we asked if he could come identify Joshua Miller in the hospital. Which he did."

Jack stormed up to them and banged on the desk with two fists. "When that man goes to the outhouse he barely looks at his -"

"Jack." Bill said loudly. "Profanity isn't going to help us here."

Jack calmed down ever so slightly at the sound of his actual name. "I'm just saying, Yost isn't the most thorough man in the world. He saw brown hair and brown eyes and an approximate height and build and age match and went, 'Yep, that's him.'" Jack was back to pacing, gesturing with his arms as he made this mocking speech. "Someday I'm going to..."

"You're not going to do anything. He made a mistake." Bill said.

"A mistake?!" Jack was back to furious again. "A mistake?! He had me up in those huts for two years doing who knows what, everyone I know is told I'm dead, and you call that a mistake?!"

"Yes. I call that a mistake. Because it's not helpful to call it anything else."

Jack banged on the table again, this time nearly knocking Frank out of his chair. "Two years, Bill! Two years! A mistake that took two years from me!"

Bill reached out and took Jack's hand. Jack was startled at the gesture and furrowed his eyebrows.

"I know you're angry, Jack. Please try to calm down." Bill said in a soothing voice.

Jack looked at his feet for a moment, then back at his friend, and nodded slightly. He went back to pacing, but his steps were a bit slower and lighter this time.

"And again, none of this would have happened if you two had been wearing the correct tags," Richard felt the need to point out again. Jack knew he was right but still, there had been so many opportunities to fix that issue that had been missed.

Bill turned back to the two Constables. "But this still doesn't explain how Jack wound up working in those huts."

"Yes, so, about that. Once Recruit Miller had recovered enough to be released, he didn't really speak much. Or at all, in fact. He didn't seem to understand what was happening around him. Everyone figured his brain had been damaged from the injuries. We thought about sending him to a sanitarium, but he didn't seem like a danger to society and he was still able-bodied, so we tried to think of somewhere else. He didn't have any family as we mentioned, but Mitch Yost eventually offered to take him in. Offered to give him employment up in the hills where he could live out his days in peace. And since he was too badly injured to be taken in by the RCMP anymore, well, it was determined that that was the best solution."

Bill understood it logically but it didn't seem quite right to turn a mentally disabled man into a laborer. In fact that seemed very illegal. He made a mental note to look into the legality of that decision when he and Jack got home, but in the meantime, he figured it was about time to get Jack on the road.

He waited for a bit before speaking. Jack had stopped pacing and his back was turned to the other men.

"Gentlemen, I don't have any idea how it happened, but the man you see here is mostly definitely Jack Thornton. I'm guessing that it was in fact the remains of Joshua Miller that were sent back to Hope Valley. We will have our local Constable take care of that."

That remark about the new Constable made Jack look up. He shouldn't have been surprised, and yet...

But now, I would very much like you to release Constable Thornton into my custody, and I will escort him home."

Jack turned sideways to look at his friend. His anger had now been replaced by a melancholy sort of expression. He was happy to go home, but worried about what he would find. And about what the reactions of his friends and family would be. Bill could see it in his eyes.

Bill turned back to the two Constables. "Is he free to go?" He asked.

The two Constables looked at each other. They still looked pretty dubious about the whole situation, but, if the deceased had been incorrectly identified and a mentally affected man had been handed off to a complete stranger in order to perform manual labor for two years, well, that didn't make the RCMP look very good. They could tell lawsuits were in their future and didn't particularly want to add any fuel to that fire.

"Yes. He's free to go."

* * *

Jack and Bill hurried to attach all the equipment that the RCMP had given them for their journey. They had been curiously generous: the canteens were larger, the sleeping packs seemed to have a bit more padding, and there was twice as much food as they would need. Bill recognized it as a sad attempt at damage control, but he knew that once Jack had his life back in order, a couple of extra apples and a fluffier place to sleep wasn't going to make Jack forget he had lost two years of his life. Oh yes, they would be hearing from Jack again.

Jack to his part didn't seem to notice the extra provisions. He just moved as quickly and methodically as he could to get the supplies attached to the saddle. The horses were in perfect condition, especially when compared with most of the horses in the town that looked skinny and weather-beaten. They had probably been given the healthiest mounts in town. Another damage control attempt that would be lost on him.

Bill watched his friend with pity. He was only just beginning to process what had actually happened, and the more he thought about it, the sadder it all seemed. He thought about poor Jack, first in agony from injury, and then up in the hills, alone, completely lost to the world and to himself. He thought about Elizabeth and the anguish she went through. He thought about Jack's mother, who believed she had lost a husband and a son. And he thought about...

"Jack?" Bill asked softly. "How much did they tell you about the last two years?"

"Not very much. Just that I was brought back in pieces and buried a hero. That must have been a nice funeral," he chuckled.

"It definitely wasn't nice." Bill said seriously, and Jack's expression turned serious as well.

After a pause, Jack said, "I'm sorry Bill."

Bill quickly looked up. "Oh no, Jack, don't be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. They were the ones who made the mistake. They are the ones responsible."

"Oh I know. And they'll be reminded of it very soon. Once I get everything sorted I'll be back."

Now it was Bill's turn to laugh slightly. "I don't doubt it."

Bill tightened the horse's girth one last time. He was ready to go.

But before he mounted his horse, he needed to say something else to Jack.

"It's just..." his voice trailed off. "Some things have happened, Jack. Since you've been away."

Jack fastened the last strap of his own pack. "I know." And then he laughed a bit.

"What's so funny?"

"Is old Rip still around?"

Bill nodded. Rip was as idle as ever, but somehow still alive. That dog must have been a hundred years old.

"It kinda makes me think about him. About that story. The man who fell asleep for 20 years and then woke up and everything had changed. I guess I'm just hoping that not as much will have happened in 2 years as in 20."

Bill smiled, understanding the joke. "A lot of things have changed. But there's plenty that's still the same, I promise you that." At the sound of that, Jack smiled back.

The two men mounted their horses in unison and tapped their sides to get them moving. They started out as a trot but quickly increased to a fast canter and then finally a gallop.

Jack was going home at last.


	3. Chapter 3

Elizabeth sighed as she leaned out the window of the stage. She could see the familiar sights coming into view: the mountain that seemed to guard the valley, the aspen trees with their brilliant yellow fall leaves, the way the path curved around the pond that her students loved to use for fishing. She remembered the very first time she came to Hope Valley, everything had seemed beautiful, but alien. Now it was like friends had lined the road to greet her home.

Hamilton was lovely, as always. Bustling and lively and filled with excitement. She had had more than her fill of French pastry shops and expensive shopping trips with her sisters. She couldn't deny that she enjoyed her time in Hamilton. But no matter how good a time she had, she was always ready to leave by the end of it. Excited, even. Excited to get back to her tiny little town and the people that defined it.

But then a less pleasant sight came into view. She hated this part of the ride, but there was no way around it. There was only one road into Hope Valley, and it took her right past the cemetery.

Sometimes she tried to ignore it and pretend it wasn't there. She bowed her head in respect at all of the headstones but one. The one that she never got used to seeing. It just seemed so wrong, like it shouldn't be there. It was wrong that he was gone, when he still had so much living left to do. He had never built the house. He had never seen his son. He didn't even know his son existed.

But still, she had tried very hard to make her peace with it. She didn't think she would ever adopt the attitude of "everything happens for a reason" when it came to him, and it still made her so angry to think about how unfair it all was. And yet, he had died doing exactly what a heroic member of the RCMP should do: saving the lives of others. His bravery was what defined him.

'_And it was what killed him_,' she thought. She knew it was a selfish attitude to take, to be upset at him for sacrificing his own life so that others could live, but, she wished that somehow she could go back and tell him not to go. To tell him, just this once, let someone else take the post. There will be other chances to be brave, other risks to take. Stay home, Jack. Stay home.

The stage rattled on the road past the gravestones. She saw it, clear as day. "JACK THORNTON." Two years. Two years he had been gone.

But the stage kept moving, and soon enough they were past the graveyard and headed for the center of town. And there, right smack in the middle of everything, was a ridiculously overdressed man leaning against a wooden pillar smiling his rakish grin. Elizabeth's sadness evaporated and she found herself smiling back.

The carriage came to a stop, and Lucas reached out and opened the door. He offered Elizabeth his hand to help her down the fold-out stairs. She accepted it.

"M'lady," he said overdramatically. She smiled.

"Do you ever get tired of all of this?" She asked.

"Tired of what?" he replied, as he cocked his arm and put her hand into the crook of his elbow.

"Showing off."

"Never."

She hated to admit it, but Lucas really did have charm oozing out of his skin. She had always been wary of men like him; charm was usually a front for bad intentions. But the funny thing about Lucas was that he almost appeared to enjoy presenting himself as a scoundrel but in fact was one of the kindest souls she had ever met. Perhaps he did it on purpose; he wanted people to judge him for what he was, not what he looked like, and if someone instantly made up their mind about him based on his looks, then he would know they weren't worth getting to know. There was sense in that, Elizabeth thought. For what better way to learn about a person than to learn whether they judge people based on the surface or based on what was underneath.

He "escorted" her, such as it was, into the saloon, where he promptly stepped behind the bar and fixed her a cup of tea.

"You read my mind," she said.

"Not really. It doesn't take a mind reader to know that over three days in a stage will have anyone craving tea. Or whiskey. Or both." He turned sideways to look at her as he picked up a nearby bottle of some dark amber liquid. "I can always put just a drop in..."

She narrowed her eyes at him and her mouth moved into a teasing pout. "No thank you. My stomach is empty and I would like to be able to walk home unassisted."

"Ah, we can fix that problem as well! Perhaps a sandwich for m'lady? Or maybe something fancier, something with some sophistication and style. I believe I have a pot of chili in the kitchen, there is nothing more elegant than chili."

Elizabeth's eyes lowered just a slight amount at the memory. Most of the time she wasn't plagued by memories of him anymore, or when she did remember him, the memory made her laugh. But something about the chili. Something about the first date gone horribly wrong. There was something so innocent and precious about it, and it made her sad to think about it.

Lucas noticed this. He didn't know what he said, but he was observant enough to know when he had triggered a memory. Jack Thornton's ghost had faded somewhat, but it was still here.

His demeanor instantly shifted into gentleness. "Chili, huh?"

She didn't need clarification; she knew what he was getting at. She nodded.

"I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "No apologies needed. It's a silly thing, I don't know why it still affects me. I can go to our land and think about the house that he was going to build but I can't think about chili? And that whole chili thing was, gosh, maybe seven years ago?" She lowered her eyes and laughed a bit at herself.

"Grief is a complicated thing." Lucas said very softly. "It has no rules. And no timeline."

She looked up, and he smiled a kind smile at her. What a wonderful man he was, she thought.

"I suppose so. To tell you the truth I never liked chili much anyway, so it's not like it's a loss if I can never look at it again."

"I'm the same way with carrot cake. Growing up I had a dog who loved it, he would always steal it off your plate. But I hated the stuff so I didn't really care. So when he died and I never wanted to look at carrot cake ever again, it wasn't exactly a big deal."

Elizabeth laughed. She and Lucas really did have so much in common, including as it turned out, very odd food aversions.

He grinned at her, happy that he could get her to smile and lift the clouds that had descended. He knocked on the bar twice in order to symbolically change the subject. "So did you hear about..."

He was interrupted by the doors opening loudly and Rosemary bursting in, followed closely by Lee. They were arguing about something, as was their usual habit - argue, then make up, then argue again, then make up again. It seemed like an exhausting relationship to Elizabeth but they seemed happy. And she reveled in their happiness.

Lucas looked at them and grinned, then looked back at Elizabeth. He was actually extremely thankful for Rosemary and Lee's dramatic interruption. He had started to mention to her the fact that Bill had gone to Silverton on account of a cryptic telegram, but then he suddenly remembered what was on the telegram. It was something to do with Jack Thornton again, and Lucas had just gotten her to come out of a memory-induced depression. He didn't want to reopen that wound.

"What were you going to say?" She asked, taking a sip of her tea. "Did I hear about what?"

Lucas pretended to be busy with cleaning a glass. He scrambled to try to think of something to say. "Oh, yes, uh...did you hear that Abigail is planting a bed of cucumber plants in back of the cafe?"

He grimaced internally at the pathetic attempt at conversation. Elizabeth seemed none the wiser, although she seemed surprised that Lucas found this newsworthy.

"No, I hadn't heard that." She replied politely. Lucas felt his face turn red and he made up an excuse about needing to go to the kitchen to check on something. '_Foot, meet mouth_.' he thought to himself.

* * *

"You're going to kill this poor beast if you're not careful."

Jack opened his eyes just a crack to look at Bill, who was looking over Jack's horse. Jack had to admit it did look very tired. Under normal circumstances he would want to rest the animals for a day or two and set up a camp. But Jack was not in any frame of mind for lazy afternoons spent in front of the campfire. His focus was clear: home. And he wanted to get there as fast as possible.

Bill sighed as he saw the perspiration coming off of the horse and the way it's breathing was still labored, even though they had been stopped for ten minutes. Jack was already lying on his sleeping pad. He had begrudgingly agreed to stop for six hours to give the horses a rest and for them to eat and get a little sleep. He hated sleep. He had been asleep for two years. And he could sleep again once they made it to Hope Valley. So, he would stop, because he knew they needed to, but he didn't have to like it. Moreover, he didn't have to waste any time either. Tents were unnecessary. Don't waste time putting up a tent. Lie down, sleep, wake up, get going. The faster and more efficiently he did things, the sooner he'd be with Elizabeth. And his son.

'_My son_,' he thought. He still wasn't used to it. '_My son_.'

Bill pulled a packet of jerky out of the saddlebag and tossed it onto Jack's stomach. Jack lifted his head, looked at it, then opened it and ate a few bites. He remembered thinking jerky was pretty bland before, but this somehow tasted like heaven. The fact that he was starving probably had something to do with that, but that wasn't the point. The entire world seemed brighter. Food tasted better. And the feeling of the wind in his hair felt...

"Oh, Bill. Before we do anything else, do you have scissors in your bag?"

"I don't think so. Why?"

Jack got to his feet and looked in his saddle bag. No scissors there either. Unfortunate. The collarbone length hair was driving him crazy, it kept getting in his eyes and mouth. He didn't know how women dealt with it, it seemed so annoying.

But he wanted to get rid of it for a different reason as well: because it was a reminder of how much time had passed. His head scar was too and there wasn't much he could do about that, but the hair had to go.

He groaned audibly with frustration. "Gotta get this hair off my head somehow!"

Bill laughed a little. "I've got a hunting knife I could use."

"No thanks. I need a haircut, not a scalping."

Jack went back to his bedroll and laid back down. He took a deep breath through his nose and sighed it out through his mouth. The fall air smelled glorious. And as his mind continued to come out of the fog, he was remembering more about his time spent in the huts. The air never changed up there, it was always either dry pine or wet pine. Nothing but pine, all the time. It was mind-numbing. When he thought about it he found it oddly appropriate, considering that he was such a lifeless creature up there. Scent could instantly trigger powerful memories. Which made the fact that he was completely blank make a lot of sense; he had been subjected to two years of sensory deprivation.

Bill grabbed his bedroll and spread it out next to Jack's. He could tell a tent wasn't happening tonight, which was kind of stupid considering that he knew it was going to get cold that night, but, he wasn't going to deny anything to a man who had just come back to life. Although, he did feel like he needed to approach Jack about some things. There were some things he needed to do to prepare Jack for life back in Hope Valley. It wasn't that different, but there were definitely some changes.

Bill thought he should say something to Jack, as the two men hadn't conversed very much so far along the trip. Jack was just focused on getting home and Bill didn't want to interfere. Bill did however think that it would be a really good idea to try to find a messaging station along the trip in order to try to send word home about Jack's miraculous resurrection. He would never be able to do the tale justice on a telegram, but it was better than nothing. Just showing up with a dead man completely out of the blue would give half the townspeople heart attacks.

Still trying to think of how to start a conversation, he watched Jack reach into his pack and pull something out. It was a tiny wooden box that Bill had never seen before.

"What's that?" Bill asked.

Jack didn't reply, he just smiled and slowly opened the lid. Music poured out of it. Jack closed his eyes and leaned his head back down, clearly lost in the tune. He rested the box beside his head.

Bill just watched for a moment. When he finally spoke up, he said, "Did you always have this box?"

Jack didn't open his eyes. "I got it on post once. I always went to sleep listening to it. It made me think of Elizabeth. I guess I brought it with me on the training trip, since apparently it was in my RCMP pack. The Mounties finally got it back to me just a few days ago."

Bill thought that was another stain on the RCMP. "It took them two years to get your belongings to you?"

"They said they didn't know where I was. I tell you, if I weren't in such a good mood, I'd be all over them. I still might once this is all over. So many things they did wrong. I'm lucky I got it at all, and that they didn't identify this as mine...meaning, belonging to Jack Thornton and not Joshua Miller." After a pause he added softly, "I don't know if I ever would have come out of it, were it not for this."

Bill furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Something about this box, and this music. It's what snapped me out of it. I can't really describe it, it was just like, one minute there was nothing, and then the next minute I was seeing flash after flash. And images that I had seen for years that hadn't meant anything suddenly made sense."

Bill thought he had read something about the ability of music to jog memories. Now Jack was living proof of that. It was fascinating. But it was also infuriating and sad, to think that if only he had gotten his belongings earlier, and if only he had heard the music sooner. If only someone from Hope Valley had been kind enough to come visit the man that they thought Jack Thornton died for they would have been able to identify him. It almost seemed disrespectful to Jack's memory to have not visited, the ignore those he sacrificed his life to save. Not that there was a memory to be concerned with anymore, although Bill did find himself thinking about the unknown man buried in Jack's grave. He figured that had to be the real Joshua Miller. It made him wonder if, despite the RCMP saying he had no family, there were any friends wondering after his fate.

The tune kept playing, and Bill eventually noticed Jack's chest was rising and falling in a slow rhythm. He had fallen asleep to the sound of it.

'_Good_,' Bill thought. He wasn't sure if Jack would be able to sleep on this trip. But they both needed rest. Jack no doubt was going to push this trip to four days instead of the seven it should take, so they needed all the rest they could get.

And on that thought, Bill laid his head down as well and tried to fall asleep, listening to the same music box melody that had sent Jack off to the land of dreams.

* * *

"CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE"

Bill frowned when he saw the sign. He had insisted they stop at the telegraph office in Keller, a town about two days' ride from Hope Valley (one day at the pace Jack had set). Bill was desperate to get any kind of word he could to the townspeople and specifically to Elizabeth. He actually found himself hoping that she hadn't returned from her visit with her family. She had been through so much over the past two years and Bill knew the best way to present news as astonishingly unreal as this was to do so in person, and not on a piece of paper covered in abbreviations. But now even a telegram wouldn't be possible, this was the only stop Bill knew of along the way.

Jack, for his part, didn't seem bothered. He just seemed impatient to continue on the way. The closer they got to Hope Valley the faster he made his horse run. Bill could tell the animal was terribly overworked and would need a long, languid vacation in the fields in order to recover from this ordeal.

Bill sighed and returned to his horse. Jack hadn't even dismounted, and as soon as Bill had a foot in the stirrup, Jack clicked his teeth and reigned his horse to get back on the path. He was about to kick him into a run when Bill chimed in.

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"We should talk about something."

Jack sighed. He had been wondering when this was coming. Actually, not wondering. Dreading. No way was Bill going to let him just go home without a long heart to heart. And Jack didn't mind those normally, but it was just bad timing. Right now the priority was to get back home as quickly as possible. The heart to hearts could wait.

"What is it, Bill?"

"Well..." Bill's voice trailed off.

"I'm gonna warn you now, you better make this quick. I've got a whole bunch of people visiting a grave that I would very much like to tell them I am not occupying."

"Right. Yeah, well," Bill really had no idea how to approach this. "I just think we should talk about how we're going to do this."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the whole, 'I'm not dead' thing. Jack, if you just walk up to people with no notice, they're going to think they've lost their minds."

Jack did see the reason in that. But he didn't see any alternative. With the only telegraph office along the route home closed, there was no way to send word. And even if they did send word, people would probably think it was a misunderstanding, or a cruel joke. "So, what are you proposing?"

"I did have one idea. Maybe I should ride ahead of us once we get close to the town. I can ride in before you, and I'll find Elizabeth. She's the priority, she's the first one we need to tell." Jack's heart jumped at the sound of her name.

"From there I can maybe tell one or two people and they can start spreading the word. It's still a tiny town even two years later, news will travel fast, don't worry. That way this will still be unreal and bizarre but not such a dramatic shock."

Jack agreed in principle. He knew Bill's way was sensible. Still, he couldn't help but remember the last time he and Elizabeth had met after a long absence, the last time he had come home from a posting. And that posting, unlike the one with the rockslide everyone kept talking about, he remembered vividly. After that ordeal, after all that violence and terror, there was no greater sound to come home to than Elizabeth calling his name and leaping into his arms. It was one of the happiest moments in his life and he wished he could relive it everyday.

"Jack?" Bill inquired.

"Ah, sorry." Jack didn't realize how quiet he had gone. "No, no, I think you're right. They'd think I was a ghost. Or something from the underworld. I'm sure I'm not looking my best."

"That, my friend, is a gross understatement." Bill smiled. He felt slightly better. It felt good to know there was a plan.

"So, is that all?" Jack asked, obviously very anxious to get back up to a gallop.

Bill drew in a deep breath. '_Hardly_,' he thought. "Yeah, that's all. For now." He said.

Jack needed no further encouragement. The horse was immediately off at a gallop. At the pace they were going, they'd be in Hope Valley by tomorrow afternoon.

'_Just in time for the end of the schoolday_,' Jack thought with a smile.


	4. Chapter 4

Bill was struggling to keep up. It would seem as though "the plan" was for naught. Jack had caught sight of the top of the "Hope Valley" tower, and from there, there was no stopping him. He was riding like a crazed man now, urging the horse into a gallop so fast Bill worried that the horse might break a leg. And more than that, Jack yelled the whole time, making a noise that was somewhere in between laughing and screaming. It was the sound of a man knowing he was reborn. Bill's horse didn't stand a chance and he fell woefully behind Jack's with every step.

He briefly thought his fears were unfounded though when he saw Jack pull the horse up right outside town. Bill was however somewhat disturbed to see that he had stopped at the graveyard. The horse was jumpy, its blood boiling as a result of four days of intense exercise, and Jack had a hard time controlling it. Stopping a galloping horse was dangerous, they needed to be slowed down gently and allowed to calm down, but there was no way Jack was doing anything gently right now.

As the horse hopped in circles, pulling at its reins and willing its rider to allow it to resume running, Jack began to scan the headstones. Most were familiar, though there were a couple of new ones. He noted the names but didn't grieve; he wasn't here to grieve. There would be time for that later. And after a few moments of searching, he found the one he was looking for.

"JACK THORNTON" it read. His own headstone. His grave. When Jack saw it, he was momentarily surprised, but he wasn't as upset as he thought he'd be. He didn't find it disturbing, as most people would have. He didn't even think about who might actually be buried there. He was so drunk on the feeling of new life that all he could do was grin. He almost found the whole thing funny. If anyone had been watching him as he did this they would have been shocked, since, who smiles at the sight of a grave? But it didn't matter to Jack. All he could think was, whoever's grave that was, it wasn't his.

Then, just as soon as he had stopped, he kicked the horse again. The horse for its part needed no encouragement, and it took off at its previous frenetic pace, galloping into the center of the town, where people were taking notice. They had heard Jack's crazed screams and laughter, and they observed him fly into town. The only problem was, this wasn't anything like the calm, collected Jack they had known, and his insane demeanor combined with his altered appearance meant that no one recognized him. The fact that Bill had been unable to send a telegram ahead of them as they rode didn't help matters; he had been very worried about how people would react to a dead man suddenly riding into town. He had hoped they could do Jack's reintroduction quietly and gently, but Jack was clearly having none of that.

Even as Jack entered the center of town and people came out to observe the commotion, he didn't stop. His destination wasn't the center of town. Though as he rode, Rosemary, who had come out of her home to see what was happening, was probably the first one to actually look at the face. It made her blood run cold, particularly as she saw Bill riding about forty meters behind whoever the first rider was. She had seen the telegram Bill had received two weeks ago. She had seen the partial message "J THRNTN FN". But she, like Bill, thought it referred to a long lost possession of his. It had never occurred to her that the "J THRNTN" of the telegram might be the actual man.

As Bill struggled to come up the rear, he shouted at Jack. Jack had completely disregarded what they had discussed and was in danger of turning this into a really bad situation. Bill needed to get Jack back under control; he was acting possessed. But as the townspeople stared, Jack finally saw the schoolhouse steeple come into view. Every time he had closed his eyes for the past two weeks, he had seen this event, this moment.

He finally pulled the horse to a stop for the last time outside the building. And as if ordained by providence, he heard the sweet, familiar sound of a cowbell. He leapt off his horse and stood there, waiting for the doors to open.

And open they did. Hoards of children came screaming out the door. He remembered that sound. He had always made excuses to go visit Elizabeth before and after school, even before their relationship had blossomed, just because he wanted to see her. And he had come to associate the noise of exuberant children yelling as they ran out the doors of the school in the afternoon with her, the same way he associated her with the freshest flowers and the smell of chalk. And certain musical tunes.

Most children ran past him and took little notice. They saw men like him - dirty, sweaty, unkempt - all the time. This was a sawmill town after all, and before that it had been a mining town. People were used to other people, particularly men, looking a little disheveled. However a few of the older children got a better look at his face and did double takes. He couldn't be Mountie Jack, they knew that. Mountie Jack had died and they were very little the last time they saw him, so they must be seeing things...but wow, did he look a lot like him. Who was he, anyway, and why was he staring at the school doors?

They didn't get a chance to ask him. He walked past them and slowly climbed the school steps. It was odd how he had pushed his horse to its breaking point to get here as fast as possible, but now that the moment was here he found he could only move slowly. He supposed that he wanted to savor every moment. This was two years in the making.

He reached out a hand to pull open one of the doors to the school, after it had closed behind the children. He took a deep breath, stepped through the precipice, and saw the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in his life.

Elizabeth's back was turned and she was erasing the board. She hadn't changed at all. She still had the same auburn hair cascading down her back, the same slim waist, the same delicate hands. Jack felt tears coming into his eyes. She had been stunning the first time he saw her and at that time, he thought he hated her - or, at least tried to convince himself he hated her. Now that she was the love of his life, she was practically a goddess.

He found that he suddenly couldn't move. He wanted more than anything to rush up to her, to grab her into the biggest hug. But he was mesmerized by the simple act of her erasing a chalkboard. It was idiotic and he didn't know why he was doing it.

A few seconds of this went by, of Elizabeth erasing the blackboard and Jack standing in the back of the school watching her like a lunatic. It was just enough time for Bill to finally catch up. He had seen where Jack was headed and instantly knew what Jack was thinking. He also knew it was a terrible idea. Understandable, but terrible. Jack was so excited by the prospect of seeing Elizabeth again that he hadn't considered the practical applications of a dead man bursting into a room to surprise his wife of his non-demise. If Elizabeth didn't have a stroke at the sight of it, it would be a miracle.

Unfortunately, he had caught up, but Jack had gone a little too far into the school for Bill to be able to pull him out silently. Bill rushed up the stairs and tried to grab Jack to pull him out of sight and talk some sense into him, but his rushing made just a little too much noise. And Elizabeth, who had put down her chalk rag and had been collecting books off of her desk, raised her head.

At first, she barely paid any mind. She saw Bill, and she smiled at him and raised a hand in welcome. But her smile quickly faded at the sight of the crazed man beside him. His long brown hair was windblown and strands of it were glued to his face by sweat. His clothes were disgusting. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. And he was staring at her with a kind of drunk looking half-smile on his face. It was a ghastly, grotesque sight and she didn't like it.

Jack finally found the strength in his legs to move towards her. He took one step, paused, and then took another step. Elizabeth had a strange expression on her face that kind of looked like fear and it occurred to him that she probably didn't recognize him.

"Bill -" she called out, looking for an explanation.

He smiled at her again, and when he did, her face changed. It went from confusion to horror. She had seen that smile before.

"Elizabeth..." he said softly. "Elizabeth."

Elizabeth's mouth dropped half-way open and her breathing increased dramatically. Her eyebrows dropped, her eyes widened. She was looking at a ghost. A terrifying, twisted, spectral version of her long dead husband.

Jack took one more slow step, then broke into a run. He ran towards her and grabbed the sides of her arms. Not knowing his own strength coupled together with his emotions riding high meant he did this a little harder than he should have, and it only added to Elizabeth's distress. Because now she was really and truly terrified. She leaned away from him, trying to escape his grasp, but he wouldn't let go.

"Elizabeth, it's me. It's me," he said, his voice soft. "It's me, it's me, I'm home."

Bill, who had been watching this the whole time, could tell that this reunion was not going well. He understood Jack's exuberance but Jack had done everything wrong.

Elizabeth was shaking. She still struggled against Jack's grasp, who for his part wouldn't let go. In fact, he brought her even closer. He thought maybe her distress was because she couldn't see his face clearly and she just thought he was some man who was attacking her. But no, she saw his face alright. And at last, it had all become too much to bear. She hyperventilated and fainted in Jack's arms.

Now Bill really knew he needed to step in. As Jack called Elizabeth's name to try to wake her up, Bill inserted himself between them, trying to get Jack to let her down to the floor.

"Jack! Jack, listen, listen to me!" He shouted. Jack, who was beginning to recognize just what he had done and how badly he had handled this, looked at him.

Bill tried to diffuse the situation. "Jack," he said, much quieter this time, "put her down." Jack complied, then pushed his hair behind his ears and clasped his hands, unsure of what to do. This had not gone as he envisioned it.

"Jack," Bill began again. "We need to do this differently when she wakes up. When she does, we need to..."

He was interrupted by shouting and by the cocking of a rifle. Both of them looked up to see a very familiar sight: a man in a red serge jacket. The less familiar part of the scene, to Jack anyway, involved who was wearing the jacket, as he had never seen that man before. But he held Jack at rifle point, his face all fury.

Constable Nathan Grant had arrived, spurred on by the gathering commotion outside the school. And as he didn't even know Jack, he didn't see this as the shocking reunion of a husband and wife. All he saw was an insane man leaning over an unconscious woman. And not just any woman. Elizabeth. It made his blood boil.

"Who are you, and what is going on?" he snarled as he walked closer to them, never lowering his rifle.

Jack was too distracted and worried about Elizabeth at first to really hear what Nathan had said, so Nathan repeated it, shouting this time. That got Jack's attention, but before he could respond, a crowd of exclaiming people entered the back of the schoolroom. And because none of them got a good look at Jack, none really grasped exactly what was happening.

Bill could see this whole thing was a disaster. "Nathan, it's fine. Everything is fine."

"It doesn't look fine at all from where I'm sitting." Nathan said, his voice filled with ire.

Bill tried to respond, but Nathan again shouted, "Who the hell are you?" at Jack.

Jack looked at the mountie. He wasn't in the mood to get yelled at. "I'm her husband," he shot back.

Nathan looked very startled, and the entire crowd that had formed at the doorway went dead silent.

"We tried to send a message," Bill said, trying to address everyone in the room. "We tried to tell you all ahead of time."

No one made a sound. Bill looked around for somebody, anybody, to act with some degree of composure and calmness.

Unfortunately for him, 'calmness' was something that wasn't going to exist in Hope Valley for a very, very long time.

* * *

Jack sat in a chair next to the bed where Elizabeth had been placed. Faith was gently rotating some smelling salts underneath her nose to try to get her to wake up.

The room was filled with people, despite Faith saying that Elizabeth needed room to breathe. Everyone was concerned for Elizabeth of course, but most of them were just staring at Jack. The ones who had known him before kept looking for something that would prove it wasn't him, that there had been no mistake in his being reported dead, that this was just some man who bore a striking resemblance to Jack. But despite their efforts, they couldn't find much. Jack would never have worn his hair long, and this man looked a little older, but that was about it.

As for the ones who hadn't known him: they just seemed incredulous. It had taken a while to get Constable Grant to calm down - odd, considering that his personality was practically mechanical. But he did eventually listen to Bill, and as implausible as the story sounded, he respected Bill's point of view. For Constable Grant's part, he had seen pictures of Jack Thornton and couldn't deny there was an incredible likeness.

And there was one other person in the room, someone Jack had glanced at but so far hadn't paid much attention to. He stood in the back corner of the room, one knee resting against the wall, arms folded across his chest. His eyes kept going back and forth between the unconscious Elizabeth and the strange man sitting beside her. Lucas thought the whole thing was crazy. He thought this man must be some kind of con man. He had never known Jack Thornton in life but based on the description he had heard Jack never would have either looked nor acted like this man. Jack was an upright member of the community, a man of the law, and a perfect gentleman. And he had looked the part. Lucas had always heard Jack described as the only man alive who deserved Elizabeth. But this man? This man was like a wild animal. Lucas had heard his yells as he rode into town; he thought it was murderers come to kill them all.

Everyone in the room jumped when Elizabeth began to stir. Jack reached out to touch her before Faith stretched an arm across Elizabeth's body, stopping him. He looked pained at that but did as she ordered.

"Elizabeth?" Faith said gently. "Elizabeth, can you hear me?"

Elizabeth groaned and blinked her eyes open a couple of times. She saw Faith, and Bill behind her, and Nathan. She saw quite a few faces in the room. But it wasn't until she turned her head slightly that she saw the one that she figured she must have dreamt.

Elizabeth and Jack locked eyes and stared at each other for an eternity. Most of the other people in the room took that as indicative that they should leave them alone, and they slowly filed towards the door in silence. Nathan seemed a bit reluctant, but he ultimately followed. As he approached the door, only one person was left in the room besides Elizabeth and Jack. Lucas.

Nathan looked back at the couple, who were still staring at each other, and then looked at Lucas. Lucas was staring at Jack, his face a shadowy cloud. Nathan eventually got his attention and gestured towards the door. Lucas looked back at Elizabeth and Jack one last time, then reluctantly walked out of the room. Nathan closed the door behind him as quietly as he could.

"This is ridiculous," Lucas said as soon as they were outside. "Jack Thornton is dead and everyone knows it."

Nathan didn't respond. He was pretty confused at this whole thing; like Lucas, he had always heard Jack described as practically perfect. As a fellow Mounted Policeman he admired and respected him, and honored his memory. Even though he had never known Jack in life he often visited the grave. There was no greater purpose for ones such as them to die in service, and Jack died saving two people. The man in that room looked like he might eat two people.

"We shouldn't have let him in there, what if something happens?" Lucas was furious.

"Like what?" Nathan answered.

"Like what?! Like if he attacks her? Or did you forget that little event that happened just a few minutes ago?"

"We don't know that that's what happened."

Lucas made an exasperated sound and walked around a bit. Nathan stayed glued to his spot.

"No, no, no, I know what I saw."

"You weren't there, you didn't see anything."

"Well, I heard it described! That guy went up to her, looking like some kind of escaped member of an insane asylum, manhandled her, and suffocated her."

"She wasn't suffocated, she fainted, probably due to shock."

"Why are you defending him?" Lucas demanded. "Why are you suddenly taking his side?"

"Because if what he says is true, and Bill backs him up on this, then this is a miracle."

Lucas didn't see it that way. True, Bill corroborated the man's story, but Bill could be fooled. Lucas had never known him to be fooled by anyone, but it was always possible. There had to be something here. That man was playing with Elizabeth's emotions, to what end Lucas didn't quite know yet. But he was insane. Dangerous, even.

Nathan sighed and looked back at the building one last time, then turned to walk away. Before he did he said to Lucas, "Don't you dare go in there until one of them comes out."

Lucas looked up at him angrily. He didn't respond, but the look on his face was enough to tell Nathan that he wouldn't, as much as he wanted to.

Nathan walked off in the direction of the RCMP building. Lucas stayed right where he was, right outside the building. He wouldn't go in until they were done, but he definitely wasn't leaving her completely alone with him either.

* * *

Elizabeth slowly reached out with one hand and then the other. She timidly touched the man's face, tracing the dimples in his cheeks and the moles on the left side of his jawline. Every feature that she had burned into her memory about her husband's face, this man had. Every single one of them.

Jack wasn't sure if it was alright to touch her. He had frightened her so badly earlier that now he was extremely reticent. He did put one hand and then the other on each side of her waist. He had also started to cry tears of joy. And Elizabeth looked like she would join him in that regard very soon.

"It's impossible," she whispered.

"I know, I know it is." Jack said through his tears. "I don't think even I believe it."

Elizabeth sat up in bed, still not taking her hands off of his face. She pushed one of his long locks out of the way; he hated the hair with a passion, but he couldn't deny that the gesture felt wonderful. He couldn't imagine how dirty he was though.

"You - you're here. How are you here?" She said, still whispering.

Jack laughed a bit. "It's a very long story."

"I have time." Elizabeth replied with a little more strength in her voice, which made Jack laugh even harder.

And so, Jack told her the whole story. He told her the little that he did remember about the training exercises. He told her about the rockslide he didn't remember but that others had described to him. He told her about the fact that somehow, his and Joshua Miller's identity tags had gotten mixed up, and that the body identified as killed in the rockslide was physically unrecognizable. Only the tag could be used, and a mix-up had occurred with in-person reports that led others to say he was Joshua Miller as well.

Elizabeth looked sad. She had begged the RCMP to open Jack's coffin and to let her see him one last time. They refused, saying that it was too distressing a sight. She didn't ask for details but it wasn't hard to figure out what they meant by that. She had had nightmares for a long time after the funeral where she saw Jack's handsome face smashed in, his limbs torn off, his torso bloodied.

Jack continued, describing his injuries. He showed her the scar that ran from his temple to his neck, which she touched gingerly. He told her about waking up not knowing anything - initially when he woke up, he couldn't even read or write. Some things came back over time but mostly his mind had stayed a blank fog. And he told her about Mitch Yost identifying him as Joshua Miller and him eventually being assigned to a job as an animal and weather inspector in the hills above Silverton, not far from where the rockslide had occurred in the first place. He told her about how in his dreams he would always see her, not knowing who she was. But he would draw her, just as he had always done even before the rockslide. Even in the fog, he knew there was something significant about her.

He then reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the little music box. Elizabeth hadn't seen it in years and assumed it was lost somewhere, so she gasped at the sight. Jack told her about how it had taken an obscenely long time for them to return his belongings to him, and how the music box was ultimately was what brought him back to life.

The story sounded crazy but in a way almost sort of plausible to Elizabeth. She had never received any direct proof that it was Jack in that coffin, she just accepted what the RCMP told her. And she hated herself for it. She also hated herself for never visiting Joshua Miller. She knew the name very well, it was one of the recruits that the RCMP had told her Jack had saved from the rocks. She had heard him described as having a brain injury from the ordeal but in otherwise good health. She had thought many times about going to visit him, to honor Jack's memory, but she always found a reason not to. She always thought it would be painful for her to meet the person whose life came at the cost of her husband's. And she was so ashamed for it. How much time had they lost because of her weakness?

By the end of the story they were both sobbing. They leaned towards each other and rested forehead to forehead, eyes closed. He took her hands in his. And they sat there like that for a long time.

Elizabeth eventually pulled away. She reached up to wipe tears from his eyes, stroking his cheek. Jack thought he was in paradise.

She struggled to find something to say. "Well. I guess you're back then." It made them both burst out laughing, which was a welcome relief to the tension.

As she smiled and continued to admire his chiseled, slightly less boyish than she remembered face, she said, "Oh Jack, there's so much to tell you." And her eyes then widened. He looked back at her inquisitively.

"Do I have my - no, it's back at the schoolhouse. I have a photograph in my purse that I had taken of...of..." her voice trailed off.

"Of our son?"

She looked at him with surprise. "You know about him?"

Jack sobbed and laughed at the same time. "Yes, the people at the logging company told me about him. Accidentally."

"Accidentally?"

"It's not important. But yes, they told me about him. And it looks like you and he won't be getting those widows relief packages anymore."

Elizabeth laughed again. "No, I guess not."

After a pause, Jack locked eyes with her again. "Elizabeth...what's his name?"

She smiled. "Jack. I named him after you. Everyone calls him Little Jack."

"Little Jack," Jack repeated. "Little Jack," he said again. He said it over and over, about five times total, until he collapsed into a fit of sobs. Elizabeth reached out to gather him into a hug and he melted into her arms.

"Little Jack," he whispered. "Pa's home."


	5. Chapter 5

Jack had once believe that nothing could ever feel as wonderful as the nights spent with Elizabeth on their honeymoon. It made him blush a bit to think about even now. But he had to admit, a bath, a shave, and a haircut after a week in the saddle and two years in some godforsaken logging operation definitely gave those nights by the fire and under the stars a run for their money.

He felt like a new man. He was quite literally reborn. He wrapped himself in a towel, shivering slightly at the mid-autumn chill that entered Elizabeth's small home. She had the woodstove going but it didn't seem to help upstairs much. He made a note to figure out how to fix that in the house he planned to start building very, very soon for them and their growing brood.

He started to comb his now short hair when he stopped dead in his tracks. He saw himself in the looking glass, covered only by a towel, and a thought occurred to him.

'_Wait a minute. I've been dead for two years. Did she keep my clothes?_'

He went over to the wardrobe that they had shared and opened the door. Sure enough, not a single item of men's clothing. There was quite a bit of women's clothing though. Elizabeth may have been devastated at his "death" but she certainly enjoyed the extra closet space.

Suddenly he heard a creak in the floorboards and turned rapidly towards it. Elizabeth stood in the doorway, a shy smile on her face and, he was happy to see, a pair of trousers, suspenders, a flannel shirt, and some undergarments. She had read his mind.

"I had to borrow these from Bill. They might be a little small for you." '_They'll definitely be too small._' she thought. Jack stood bare-chested in front of her and he still had the same lean muscularity that she remembered. He may not have been doing the same Mounted Police exercises as before, but whatever he done with the logging company had maintained his physique. Maybe even improved it. Bill's clothes were not going to fit; he was taller and skinnier than Jack. But, he had to wear something. '_Unfortunately._' she thought.

Jack appeared to read her mind and got a sinister looking grin on his face. He straightened himself to his full height, which wasn't dramatically different than hers but was enough to be noticeable, and walked towards her, feigning arrogance. Elizabeth swallowed hard. Jack stood in front of her, knowing full well what she was thinking, and reached down to take her hands in his.

"You know, we are still technically husband and wife. 'Course, I'm guessing the state issued an official death certificate, and you can't be legally married to a dead man. We'll have to get that fixed quickly."

"Very quickly," Elizabeth said without thinking. She could hear herself, she knew how stupid she sounded, but she couldn't help it. Jack had always gotten her heart to beat a little faster. And unfortunately, as evidenced by his rakish expression, he knew it.

"Then again, the legal stuff will all sort itself out in time. We know we're married. So, there shouldn't be any restrictions, right?"

Elizabeth was totally frozen. Four hours ago her husband was dead. Now he was half naked in her bedroom (their bedroom) looking handsomer than ever and making some very obvious suggestions. This had to be the strangest day in her life.

"Elizabeth?" he inquired.

"Um..." she didn't know how to respond. '_Stop being like this_,' she thought. '_You have a child with this man. It's a little late to be bashful_!'

They were interrupted by the sound of a child's crying. Jack instantly forgot what he had been doing and grabbed the clothes out of Elizabeth's hand. He dropped the towel without thinking and Elizabeth drew in a very sharp gasp. Normally Jack would have had a lot of fun with that reaction, but now he was just getting dressed as quickly as possible. And Elizabeth knew why.

It took him all of thirty seconds to get decent, and he attempted to finger-comb his short hair into its old sideswept style. He didn't do a very good job, but unfortunately for Elizabeth it only made him look more charming. She at last jolted herself out of her stupor, and once she saw that he had his shoes on (also borrowed), it was now her turn to walk up to him and take his hands.

Jack looked scared. And he was scared. He loved children and wanted them desperately, but he had kind of expected to be there for the whole process. Poor Elizabeth had gone through pregnancy, childbirth with all its dangers, and the exhausting early days without any help. And he felt cheated out of those things, of teasing Elizabeth about her growing belly, holding her hand and wiping her brow during labor, and helping to calm down Little Jack when he cried in the middle of the night. He vowed to himself that things would be very different with the next ones.

"Are you ready to meet your son?" She asked.

Jack beamed and nodded. '_Don't cry._' He told himself over and over. '_Don't cry._'

The two held hands as they left the room and approached the stairs. The house was not very big and looking over the railing, Jack could see Rosemary in the downstairs room, holding a pale blond boy and bouncing him on her knee.

'_Don't cry, Jack. Don't cry_.'

Elizabeth walked down the stairs, still holding Jack's hand. Jack was now the bashful one. He nearly bonked his head on a wooden beam while descending the stairs, such was his lack of attention to anything else.

She then let go of his hand and walked over to Rosemary. Rosemary was beaming at Jack and handed Little Jack off to Elizabeth. She was leaving, but before she did, she walked over to Jack and pulled him into a tight hug. He hugged her back, equally tightly.

"Back from the dead, huh? Heard you been living in a treehouse." Rosemary said to him.

He laughed. "Not exactly. Tree yes. Calling it a house might be a little generous."

"Well, you're home now. There's a hot meal for you at Lee's and my place whenever you want it." And with that, she leaned up to kiss him on his cheek, smiled at Elizabeth and Little Jack one last time, and showed herself the door.

It was just the three of them now. His family. He had been dreaming of this for years.

Elizabeth was sitting with Little Jack, who was staring at Big Jack. Big Jack stared right back and slowly walked towards them. He bent down on his knees and reached out to touch Little Jack. He was soft, squishy, and perfect, just as he should be.

"Would you like to hold him?" Elizabeth asked. Jack was very nervous; he had held babies before, much smaller ones than this, but something about it being his own son made it feel scarier. But there was no way he was going to say no, so he nodded eagerly and held out his arms.

Elizabeth passed Little Jack off to him. Big Jack embraced him into a hug. He made little baby noises but otherwise was very quiet. Big Jack hugged him for a moment, rubbing his tiny back, then brought him forward so he could look at his face.

"Everyone says he looks like you," Elizabeth said.

Jack could definitely see it. But he could also clearly see Elizabeth in him too. He had some of her more delicate features, most notably, her chin.

"Little Jack," Elizabeth said, moving beside him. Little Jack turned to look at her. He was chewing on his two forefingers. "This is your Pa. Can you say Pa?"

Jack couldn't handle it anymore. At the sound of that he couldn't hold back his tears. He wasn't in pieces the way he had been earlier, but now it was a normal sort of crying as he held his baby son. Little Jack didn't seem to notice his father crying, but he also didn't respond to the question. Jack guessed he hadn't learned the word "Pa" yet. Understandable. It's not like he had had any opportunity to use it.

"He likes you," Elizabeth said to Jack. "He normally doesn't really like strangers."

Jack sniffled and then abruptly stood up, hoisting Little Jack over his head. "I'm not a stranger, am I, Little Jack?" He bounced him up and down, and Little Jack loved it. Little Jack laughed and smiled. Big Jack just kept crying.

Maybe he had died after all, because this certainly felt like heaven.

* * *

Jack was pacing all around the room, a bundle of nerves and excitement. Bill had been asleep but Jack wrenched him out of bed to talk about his newfound love of parenting. Bill understood all of this was important, but he didn't possibly see how Jack could still have this kind of energy. The had ridden for four days straight on almost no sleep. The horses were nearly dead, and Bill didn't feel much better. Yet here was Jack, looking like he had just had five cups of coffee right after getting 12 hours of uninterrupted rest. Bill knew he was still riding on a high, but he really did need to slow down or he was going to crash.

"You wouldn't believe it Bill, it's, it's just the most amazing feeling!"

"Getting a much needed haircut and a bath? I know it is."

Jack glared at him for a second but was too overjoyed to be truly annoyed. "He's, he's just so small!"

"Babies generally are."

"And he's got this little toothy smile, and these big wide eyes, and his hair is softer than anything I've ever felt. Softer than cashmere."

Bill chuckled to himself. Jack, the big, stoic, steadfast Mounted Policeman, was putty in his son's hands. It was downright adorable.

"Aw, Bill, I can't wait to start teaching him stuff. I'm gonna teach him to fish, and hunt, and, and, we're gonna go camping and cook food over the fire, and we'll build things together..." Jack was basically talking to himself at this point, just rattling off future father-son activities.

Bill interjected, "And use the outhouse, I hope? Potty training, that's a part of parenting too."

Jack stopped. "Do you think he doesn't know how to do that yet?"

"I was kidding, but I have no idea. Probably not."

"Oh, huh. Well, Elizabeth can handle that." Bill looked up at him with that remark. Jack was so incredibly in over his head, he had no idea, and it was hilarious.

"But yeah Bill." Jack finally seemed to run out of steam and collapsed into a nearby chair. "It's amazing."

"Wait until he wakes you up in the middle of the night every hour. Or better yet, wait until he learns the word 'no'. That'll be fun."

"He already knows that one. He said it when Elizabeth tried to put a sweater on him."

"The dreaded sweater, reviled by toddlers everywhere." Bill then yawned widely. "Okay, so, are we done here? Because I've been with you for the past four days and as much as your overall smell has improved, I would really like to get some sleep."

"Hey, I was dead, remember?"

"Yes, I remember." Bill absolutely still felt some guilt towards Jack over it. He had a feeling he would for a long time. "But I have done my Jack Thornton duty, and now it's time for this old body to get some sleep. You should too, you're gonna need it with a kid around."

Jack was looking up at the ceiling dreamily. "I want so many, Bill. I want at least five."

"You're going to have to talk to Elizabeth about that one, not me. Now," he walked over to the chair Jack was sitting in, picked it up by the armrests, and dumped Jack out of it. "You will leave this place and not come back for at least nine hours, understand?" Bill pointed towards the door as he spoke.

Jack smiled at him. "Yes, yes, I understand. Sleep well, dear."

Bill rolled his eyes and slammed the door behind him as he left. He loved Jack and was so grateful for what had happened, but, he didn't think he loved him more than sleep at the moment.

* * *

Jack walked out of the building with a giant grin on his face. It faded for a moment when he realized that he had gone to Bill's not to talk babies but to borrow more clothes, but he seemed to have forgotten that. Oh well, he'd go back in a few hours.

Jack then started to stroll along the street in the direction of the RCMP office. Passersby still gawked at him, but the town appeared to slowly be getting used to it. News had traveled, as had the actual explanation of what happened, so people were adjusting. The fact that he was now clean-shaven and back to his short haircut made things a lot easier too. He no longer looked like an escaped madman.

He smiled at people as they went by. He needed to go to the RCMP office to figure out what to do next. Was he still a member? And he wanted to start doing some digging into the finer details of his accident. He needed to determine if Joshua Miller truly had no next of kin, and the headstone needed to be replaced. Or if he had next of kin, they might want to exhume him. And he still had a number of burning questions about everything, so, yeah. He had his work cut out for him for a while.

His pace slowed when he noticed a man he didn't know staring at him across the street. He was loitering outside the saloon, far too overdressed and far too coiffed for Hope Valley. He thought he might have seen this man in the room after Elizabeth had fainted. He certainly was hard to miss, with his foppish appearance. But Jack wasn't quite sure why he was giving him the evil eye.

At last the man stood straight up and put his hands in his pockets. He then casually walked down the steps to the street and headed over to Jack.

He smiled as he approached, but this was not a friendly smile. Jack knew that look.

"So, this is the great Constable everyone always talks about? The hero who sacrificed himself and left his pregnant wife at home to fend for herself?"

Oh yeah, this guy didn't like him. And Jack found himself immediately getting angry at the mention of Elizabeth'd pregnancy and how this guy was insinuating that he had abandoned her.

"I didn't know she was pregnant." He responded coldly.

"I would certainly hope not. But it probably doesn't really matter to you mounties, does it? Pregnant wife, eight kids, mouths to feed, none of it matters. Nothing's more important than your own adventures, is it?"

"The missions never end. Someone has to go." Jack replied, even colder than before. Insulting the Mounted Police in front of Jack was a great way to get a broken nose. And this guy's nose was way too straight, way too perfect. Jack almost hoped he'd keep going.

He wasn't disappointed. "Yes, someone has to go. Mostly because you mounties are so bad at your jobs that it takes three separate crews to actually accomplish anything."

Jack clenched his fists.

"And anyway," the man said, taking a step closer to him. "Didn't you die in an avalanche or something?"

"Rockslide."

"Right, right, rockslide. Now, I'm not a big outdoorsman like yourself..."

'_That's pretty obvious_,' Jack thought, noting the man's clothes.

"...but even I know that heavy springtime weather and areas like Silverton don't mix." Jack noted the fact that he knew about Silverton but didn't say anything. Whatever this guy was getting at, at least he had done some research.

"So tell me, what kinda idiotic decision was that, and who was responsible? Was it you? Because that's not a great display of your leadership skills, taking new recruits into unreasonably dangerous areas. And you didn't die, as it turns out, but someone did."

"Yes, someone did. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to find some more information about that someone. You should return to your...what do you do here exactly?"

"I run the saloon."

"Ah. Great contribution to society. I'll be sure to buy some whiskey from you the next time I put a few dozen murderers in jail."

"Or get somebody else killed with your arrogance, and need to drink away your sorrows."

Jack didn't know why this guy was baiting him but he could feel it starting to work. And he wasn't really in the mood to get into a street fight on the same day that he was reunited with his wife and introduced to his son, so he just clenched his jaw and decided to leave. He walked away, knowing that it was inevitable that he and this fellow were going to come to blows.

* * *

Elizabeth was at home, looking down at Little Jack, who had fallen asleep. She still couldn't believe the events of the day. She was relieved and overjoyed of course, but, she kept waiting to wake up. She kept waiting for this to have all been a dream. And she wasn't even sure she would call it a good dream; if she had ever envisioned Jack returning it was not in the manner in which it happened. She pictured it being something a little bit gentler. Instead, Jack had shown up looking like he had been living among a group of bears in the woods and had forgotten how to be a human. He was more himself now after he calmed down a bit, but there was still something off about him. Not that there shouldn't be after what he had gone through, but...she found herself worried slightly in addition to blissfully happy.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock on the door. She went to open it, and found Constable Nathan Grant standing there. She greeted him, then opened the door and motioned for him to come in. He hung his hat up on the hook by the door, then walked in a bit dubiously.

Nathan had absolutely no idea where to begin. This was such a bizarre scenario. He was trained to handle a lot of different situations by the RCMP, but men coming back from the dead wasn't one of them.

"Ma'am, I uh...I just wanted to check on you and make sure you were alright. That was quite the scene earlier." He said, stumbling a bit over his words.

Elizabeth smiled and looked down. "That's an understatement. I'm sure I put on quite a show for everyone."

"No one thinks anything of it. At least, not towards you."

Elizabeth looked confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Nathan swallowed hard. This was going to be an uncomfortable remark that he knew wouldn't go over well, but he knew he needed to say it anyway.

"Well ma'am, everyone is...kind of shocked. About your husband."

She laughed. "They'd have to be cold individuals to not be shocked about someone coming back from the dead."

"No it's not that. I mean, they are of course, but, that's not all." He paused for a second.

"What is it then?" She asked.

One last gulp before Nathan replied, "They're shocked at how he acted. How he presented himself."

"He's been away for two years and everyone thought he was dead. You can't blame him for being excited to be home."

Nathan shook his head. "Absolutely, no one does. But, people remember Constable Thornton at being an extremely level-headed man who rarely let his emotions get the better of him. And now, he's riding into town screaming like a banshee and nearly attacking you."

"He did not nearly attack me, that's ridiculous. I was startled, that's all."

Again, Nathan shook his head. She was making excuses for him.

"He should have comported himself differently, ma'am. He shouldn't have just burst into the room like that. He should have sent a message, or at least planned it out a little better. He knew what it would do, what your reaction would be. This wasn't a normal reunion, where he'd been gone for a long time and was now returning. This was making you think you'd seen a ghost, or that you'd lost your mind."

That was true. Elizabeth remembered thinking that she was looking at a ghost, or some kind of demon version of Jack. But she wasn't angry.

"I appreciate your concern, Constable, but, Jack is my husband, he's been away a very long time, and I still don't know exactly what happened to him. So I'm not going to judge him for acting a little impulsively when I don't know the whole story yet."

Nathan looked at her. He hated this whole situation but was far too reserved a person to say so. He was happy for them, of course, but he had expected the famous Jack Thornton to be so different. Elizabeth seemed far too good for this version of Jack Thornton.

"Well, that's most of what I came here to say. I hope that you - "

His sentence was interrupted by the door opening, and Jack rushing in. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Elizabeth and Nathan standing there. He looked back and forth at them inquisitively.

After a moment, Nathan reached out his hand. "We haven't properly met. I'm Constable Nathan Grant."

Jack took his hand and shook it. "Constable Jack Thornton."

Nathan looked him over in a way that made Jack uncomfortable. Most people wouldn't have picked up on it, it was very subtle and Nathan was good at it, but Jack knew Nathan was doing the mountie thing - he was surveying him. Jack did that with nearly everyone too, it was a habit that mounties picked up. It was their job to be observant. But it made Jack wonder what he was looking for exactly.

Nathan then gave Jack a very small smile. "It was good to meet you, sir. Heard a lot about you. And I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other, considering our shared profession."

Jack smiled back. He wasn't exactly comfortable around this guy, but, he certainly liked him better than the overdressed saloon owner. He figured he'd probably treat supposedly resurrected men with the same skepticism. "Yes, I'm sure we will."

Nathan went towards the door and Elizabeth stood up to open it for him. He took his hat down from the hook.

"Thank you for coming, Nathan. It was very kind of you."

"Ma'am." Was all he said as he walked out the door. She closed it behind him.

"New sheriff in town?" Jack asked humorously.

She smiled back at him. "New Constable, you mean."

She leaned against the closed door, her face suddenly looking concerned. Jack walked over and gently placed his hands on her arms.

"What's wrong?"

She looked up at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it and shook her head.

"What?"

"No. We're not going to talk about anything serious today. There's time for all of that." She reached out and put her hands on either sides of his cheeks. They weren't as full as she remembered, they were now much more chiseled. He had a few fine lines here and there, particularly around his eyes. He was still boyish, but much less so. But it truly, undeniably, was him.

She took a deep breath. "I still can't believe it..." she said softly.

He smiled. "I can't either."

After a short pause, he leaned in to kiss her. A small noise escaped her throat, and then she closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck. His arms went around her waist and they pulled each other close. Elizabeth had found the day so emotionally taxing, but being so close to him like this she could smell his familiar scent, the scent that was only his, the scent that said "Jack", and it invigorated her. Jack experienced the opposite phenomenon; his day had been a whirlwind of excitement and emotion, but as he ran his fingers through Elizabeth's soft hair, every muscle in his body seemed to relax.

Opening his eyes just slightly he caught a glimpse of Little Jack, still sleeping. He gently pulled away from Elizabeth; she opened her eyes. He looked down at her, smiled, then reached behind her back and under her knees and picked her up.

"We should best get out of sight," he whispered to her. She responded by nuzzling his neck, and he carried her up the stairs towards the bedroom. He took one final glimpse of his son, smiled, and closed the door behind them.


	6. Chapter 6

Around the same time that Elizabeth and Jack were getting reacquainted as a married couple, the late night stage was rolling into town. Not many people were awake at that hour, save for the few sawmill workers and drifters who loitered around the saloon, and they were mostly too drunk to notice, so as the stage rolled to a stop almost no one paid it any mind. Almost no one, that is, except Lucas.

He was still in a horrible mood as a result of the events of the day. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that the mythical Jack Thornton, the long dead Constable that everyone spoke about as if he were superhuman, would rise from the grave and turn out to be a most unremarkable man. Lucas never bore the ghost of Elizabeth's husband any ill will - after all, what harm could a ghost do to him? But now that the ghost turned out to be very much alive, Lucas found himself picking Jack apart, noting every flaw that he could find. And despite begrudgingly having to admit that, once he had gotten a bath and a haircut, the man wasn't terrible looking, Lucas kept thinking that his demeanor was dreadful. Wild. Unpredictable. Dangerous, even. He found himself wondering if Elizabeth was even safe with him.

'_And besides,_' he thought, '_I'm taller._'

His thoughts on Jack Thornton were interrupted by the sound of the stage door creaking open and two middle-aged businessmen stepping out of it. They looked tired and jaded, and as they glanced around at the sight of Hope Valley they were obviously unimpressed. They also looked confused about where they should go next, and as it was late, there was no one around to give them any assistance.

Lucas didn't offer any help, he just stood there watching, but one of them caught a glimpse of him and snapped his fingers at him, as if he were some kind of waiter. Lucas was in no mood to be treated like that, and turned around to go back into the saloon.

"You there! Can you help us out here for a moment?" he heard one of them call after him.

He growled with exasperation to himself, but against his better judgement, turned around.

"What can I do for you, gentlemen?" He replied. The two men were slightly taken aback, as the politeness of his words was not at all matched by the infuriated look on his face.

The two men looked at each other for a moment, each one willing the other to speak, then looked back at Lucas.

"Erm...we need to get two rooms for the night. And you appear to be affiliated with this establishment," one of them said, gesturing towards the saloon.

Lucas' expression didn't soften, but he did say to them, "I can give you rooms, but I like to know who's staying in my 'establishment,' as you called it, before I do so. What's your business here?"

The two men again looked at one another. They weren't used to country people and didn't quite know how to interact with someone like this.

Finally, one of them tentatively replied, "My name is Alexander Neillson, and this is my associate, Patrick Muldoon. We have been assigned to come to Hope Valley to increase production of its industries, as charged to us by the war department."

That shut Lucas up.

The war department. In Hope Valley thus far it had actually been fairly easy to pretend that there wasn't a world war going on thousands of miles away. Some men had enlisted, of course, but thus far no one had been reported killed, and most of the able bodied men in the town who had tried to enlist had in fact been rejected. Some of them were rejected for reasons that these men had just mentioned - production was deemed essential to the war effort, as both lumber and coal work were vital and were too physically demanding for women to take over. Other men who had tried to enlist had been turned down for medical reasons. Chronic injuries were common among the townspeople, thanks to a lifetime of manual labor, and while they didn't disqualify people from working, they did disqualify them from traveling to another continent and fighting.

The men looked at each other again, this time smugly. The fancy man standing before them hadn't been expecting that. They had caught him off guard and now his arrogance had melted away.

"So, with that said," the one called Alexander began, with much greater confidence this time, "we would like two rooms. And not just for the evening, but for the foreseeable future."

Lucas was glad it was dark, because he could feel his cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. As much as he dressed like one he didn't much care for city folk, and these two exemplified why: they were there to take over an industry that they didn't understand, sent there by people who knew nothing about the town or the people who lived in it. Lucas shuddered to think of how Lee would react to this. Tomorrow might not be as eventful as today, but it certainly wasn't going to be quiet.

Lucas finally sighed. He was defeated. Not just by these two, but by the entire day. He was too exhausted to fight anymore.

"Come in, gentlemen. I'll get you both rooms."

* * *

The next day dawned with unparalleled brilliance. Autumn in Hope Valley could be changeable; some days it was bitterly cold, with sheets of rain that froze people to the bone, and other days the sun was more brilliant than anyone thought possible and the reds, golds, and greens of the changing leaves put on a symphony of color. Everyone knew the season was all too short, and that soon the long dark of winter would set in. But they savored every good moment.

Elizabeth rolled over in bed, eyes still shut, lazily reaching for Jack. When she didn't find him, her heart skipped about three beats. Her eyes instantly popped open and she sat up, frantically looking around the room. But he was nowhere to be found.

It was a dream. It had to have been a dream. Her heart sank and she felt tears coming into her eyes. She had really thought she was past this. Right after his death, she dreamt of him all the time, dreamt that it had all been a horrible mistake and that he was coming home. But those dreams had faded with time. She still saw him occasionally in her dreams, she thought she always would, but his presence had changed. It went from an agonizing presence to a comforting one. He went from someone she longed for to someone she felt was always there, watching over her, her protector from the spirit world. Now it felt like she had gone back in time a year, back to the time when his absence still felt like a hole in her heart.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Little Jack. He wasn't crying, just making teething noises. Elizabeth shook her head to snap herself out of the darkness, then put her feet on the floor and stood up. She realized quickly that she wasn't wearing anything. It had been one very, very vivid dream; she hadn't had a dream like that in years, one where they were not only together, but _together_. She felt a bit embarrassed and ashamed of herself, and yanked her nightdress off of a nearby chair and threw it on over her head. She then reached for the door and stepped out to the top of the stairs...and then froze.

It hadn't been a dream after all.

Down in the sitting room, Jack was playing with Little Jack. He was making silly faces, which Little Jack loved and laughed at, and was bouncing him on his knee. Jack was wearing pants and his flannel shirt was loosely buttoned, but some buttons were in the wrong buttonholes, indicating that he had gotten dressed in a hurry. His hair was a mess and it made Elizabeth smile. Jack was always so put together in her memory: his hair was always styled, his jacket was always pressed, his boots were always shining. He worked hard to present that image to the world. But this was a much more intimate and relaxed version of him. This was the version that only she got to see.

She finally took another step and it made one of the floorboards creak. Jack looked up at her and beamed.

"He was crying and I didn't want to wake you." He said. She smiled, then slowly started to make her way down the stairs, but stopped at the bottom of them and stared at them. Jack looked back at her, slightly confused.

"Do me a favor, Jack." she said. "For the next few weeks, or maybe even months, if you get up in the middle of the night, let me know. I don't care if I'm asleep."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I don't think I'm going to believe that this is happening for a little while yet. And I'd rather not spend every morning thinking that it had all been a dream."

Jack smiled gently. "Deal. And same goes for you, by the way."

She smiled back. "I can do that."

* * *

Town was more bustling than usual that morning. To the surprise of absolutely no one, Elizabeth hadn't shown up at the school for the day's lessons, and not one parent in Hope Valley blamed her for it. So the children got to enjoy an unexpected day off, made all the sweeter by the glorious weather.

Nathan didn't really mind it. He was happy for Elizabeth and Jack and wanted to give them their time together. They had a lot to catch up on. But it was up to him to keep the peace in town, and that job was made slightly harder by the presence of thirty or so schoolchildren with little to no parental supervision. Most of the kids were fine and didn't get into any trouble, but horseplay was to be expected, particularly among the older children. He had broken up more than one fight and sent more than one teenage boy to Faith to get a scrape cleaned and a black eye iced.

After he had resolved a dispute involving two eight year old girls and a doll who had had her head ripped off (which Nathan had finally reattached with some difficulty), he tried to go back to the RCMP office for a bit of quiet time. He wasn't naturally a people person, he preferred the silent solitude of an office, and the day had been slightly taxing for him thus far. But he was dismayed to see that waiting outside his office was none other than Lucas. He sighed as he approached.

"What can I do for you, Lucas?" he asked, his voice marked by fatigue. "If this is about Elizabeth again -"

"It isn't." Lucas interrupted him. "Though we're not done on that subject, trust me."

"I'm sure we aren't." Nathan said under his breath.

Lucas ignored his tone. "Two men came into town late last night, looking for rooms. Said they were sent here by the war department. Have you heard anything about them?"

Nathan looked up at him, surprised. "No, nothing. They just got in last night, you said?"

"Very late last night. It sounds like they were sent to take over production of the sawmill. They said something about the war department wanting to increase production or something like that."

Nathan sighed. Like Lucas, he had been dreading this day. The great war had left Hope Valley, and most of its people, largely untouched, incredible considering it had been raging in Europe for over two years. He figured they had gone unnoticed because of a combination of their size - Hope Valley probably had a grand total of 300 people in it, if that - and their remoteness. This was still the Canadian frontier, after all.

"If you haven't heard anything about this, I think we should telegram someone. Make sure these men are who they say they are." Lucas said, interrupting Nathan's thoughts.

"I agree. I'll telegram the RCMP, they'll put me in touch with the war department's industrial subdivision. They should have told us these men were coming. Then again, they may have tried and we just didn't get the message. Communication isn't great around here."

Lucas nodded. "Alright then. They're still asleep, but I'm going to warn Lee about this. He's not going to like it."

Nathan nodded back. He thought the conversation was over and walked into his office. He hung his hat on the nail by the door and sat down at his desk, resting his elbows on it, then sighed and rubbed his face with his hands.

It took him a moment to realize that Lucas was still there. He dropped his hands down to the desk and asked blankly, "Something else, Lucas?"

Lucas paused, unsure of how to continue. He fidgeted and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Lucas, I've just spent hours babysitting thirty something kids, and before that I held a supposedly dead man at gunpoint when I thought he was attacking his wife. I've had quite the time. So, if you have something to say..."

Lucas looked up at him.

"Did you try to enlist, Nathan?"

Nathan leaned back in his chair and stared off into space. With a sudden reminder of the war in town, conversations like this would be popping up a lot. A lot of the men, while not exactly upset that they wouldn't be shipped off thousands of miles away from their homes, felt a bit like they were remiss in their duties to King and Country. Nathan had overhead a lot of conversations around town over the last two years about that very subject.

"Of course I did. And quite a few people from the RCMP were drafted. But not me."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I should have been. They just told me something unclear, like, my services were needed here more. That didn't really make sense to me, that I was needed more in a sleepy former coal town than at the front, but, there it is. I tried twice and got the same answer both times."

After a period of silence, Nathan then said, "Did you try to enlist?" He wasn't expecting Lucas to answer in the affirmative. Lucas wasn't a fighter.

To his great surprise, Lucas replied, "I tried to sign up the day war was declared."

Nathan didn't see that coming. "So why were you turned down?"

Lucas laughed a bit. It wasn't a positive laugh, it was more a sardonic, cynical kind of laugh.

"Heart murmur."

Nathan cocked his head at him slightly. "Heart murmur? Is that dangerous?"

"Not in my case. But the war department doesn't distinguish between ones that affect people and ones that don't."

Nathan nodded. "Well, you know you won't die on a battlefield, I guess."

Lucas gave him a look that Nathan couldn't quite decipher. If Nathan didn't know any better, he'd say Lucas almost looked disappointed.

"No one wants to die on a battlefield. But I think most of us would like the opportunity to serve our country." Lucas said quietly.

Lucas then turned to leave, and as he walked away, he said in addition, "You mounties aren't the only brave ones around here."

* * *

Elizabeth was wrapped up in a flannel blanket, clutching a hot mug of coffee. It was nearly noon but neither she nor Jack had gotten dressed or made any moves to start the day. They wanted this first morning together to last forever.

Jack hadn't wanted to put Little Jack down, but had to when Little Jack got tired, and thus a bit squirmy. Elizabeth fed him, then put him down in his bed, where he had quickly fallen asleep. Now Elizabeth was staring at Jack, who was staring at Little Jack as he slept. Jack had even hummed a bit as Little Jack was dozing off. Elizabeth never thought of Jack as a musician - and he wasn't, he was in fact quite tone deaf - but the effort had been so sweet that she was willing to overlook that.

"You seem to be taking to fatherhood quite well." She said quietly, not wanting to disturb Little Jack.

Jack looked up at her. "That's good to hear, because I have no idea what I'm doing."

She laughed a bit. "No one does. I certainly didn't. Everything about him was a surprise."

She hadn't meant that to be a backhanded remark, but Jack seemed to grimace a bit at it. She opened her mouth to clarify herself but he spoke first.

"I never should have gone, Elizabeth. And I wouldn't have, I never would have left you, if I had known."

She reached out to squeeze his shoulder, and he reached up to take her hand in his. "There was no way of knowing. Honeymoon babies aren't exactly common." She tried to joke. Jack didn't seem to think it was funny.

"It doesn't even matter. I still shouldn't have gone. I don't know what possessed me to go. Who leaves their wife two weeks after marriage to go to the woods with a bunch of 20 year old recruits?"

Elizabeth didn't disagree, and she remembered that at the time she had felt a bit put out by his leaving, but the last thing he needed right now was to feel even more guilt.

"You're passionate. You love what you do. You always said, it's a part of who you are."

Jack didn't respond to that. He just took a deep breath, looked at her, then looked back at Little Jack.

"You are part of who I am too. And now, so is he." Jack's voice had gotten very quiet.

Elizabeth didn't quite know what to say. She felt like anything she said right now would be the wrong thing. So she just stayed silent.

"I guess this is why the mounties always tell you, if they wanted you to have a wife, they would have issued you one." Jack said ironically. It had been one of the first things he had told her, back when they had first met. "Because they know at some point, you'd either be killed, or you'd have to choose between your family and your job."

"I don't think that's true, Jack. I don't like the fact that you're constantly risking your neck, but I told you once, I'll never take that away from you. And I meant it. That still hasn't changed, not even now."

Jack didn't respond. He just kept staring at Little Jack, and squeezing Elizabeth's hand.

The silence that ensued, however, was interrupted by a loud banging on the door. They both started, then Elizabeth stood up to answer the door. She opened it to find Rosemary and Lee, both looking anguished. Rosemary looked as though she had been crying.

"Rosemary!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "What's happened?" She said, reaching out to touch Rosemary's shoulder.

Rosemary sniffled. Jack had stood up and was now by the door as well.

"The war is finally here." Lee responded.


	7. Chapter 7

Rosemary's hands were shaking as she clutched the cup of tea that Elizabeth had given her. She had stopped crying, but she was still clearly distraught, and Lee didn't look much better. The four of them were seated around Elizabeth's tiny table in silence. No one really knew what to say.

It had been a long, difficult conversation up to this point. The arrival of two men no one had ever heard of in order to take over production at the sawmill was enough of a surprise, but the news was even harder for Jack, who had little to no knowledge that a war was even being fought. His memory of his time spent in the hills above Silverton was becoming clearer, but the fog was slow to lift. He had a vague recollection of people talking about a war, and he knew that there was one man working there who was missing an arm, but Jack had never really asked why. His face fell when he finally put two and two together and realized that he was a wounded veteran. It made him sad to think that that was where veterans ended up; he wasn't sure how the man even qualified for it, since it was arduous work, but Mitch Yost had proven he had no qualms about taking on men who were less than whole and working them to the bone. Jack imagined the man must have been desperate to take on a role like that.

The silence dragged on for what felt like hours. The sun began to go down - despite the glorious weather of the past few days, no one could deny that the nights were getting colder. Winter wasn't far off. Elizabeth felt herself starting to shiver, but she also felt restless and in need of something to do, so she was the first one to stand up.

"I'm going to get some more wood for the stove. You all stay here." She said gently. Lee nodded; Rosemary didn't look up.

Elizabeth walked out the door and around to the side of the house. She grabbed the leather gloves that she kept by the front door on her way out - they had been Jack's spare mountie gloves. She hadn't had the heart to get rid of them, and after two years of using them to carry firewood and do chores around the house, they were quite thin in places. She slipped them on as she approached the woodpile and grabbed two split logs, but set the logs back down again as she felt an arm reach around her to take her hand.

"I'll do it." Jack said quietly. He had followed her.

She took the gloves off and handed them to him. He smiled a bit as he saw the wear and tear they showed, then reached to gather some wood. Elizabeth moved out of the way and hugged her shawl closer around her shoulders, trying to ward off the evening chill.

"This must be a lot for you," she found herself saying. Jack stopped and looked at her briefly, then stretched out his arms to rest them on the wood pile. He hunched forward slightly, lost in his thoughts.

"I don't really know how to react." He said. "I think I knew about the war, but...it's hard to describe. It's like I knew about it but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything out there."

"Your mind wasn't all there." She replied.

"It does kind of make me wonder though, what would have happened if I had been here when it started." His voice had grown very quiet.

Elizabeth knew what he was getting at, and she went dead silent. She didn't even want to think about the prospect of Jack leaving again, not even a full two days after he had reappeared. She didn't want to talk about the war, because to discuss it would breathe life into Jack's omnipresent sense of duty. She had even thought, over the course of the last two years, that she was almost happy that Jack was gone, because she wouldn't have to watch him travel over the ocean to an unknown fate, into the most dangerous situation he had ever been in. Rockslides, disorganized gangs in the hills, petty criminals, bar fights, these were all child's play compared to the Great War. The War to End All Wars. And there was no way that Jack would have ever refused the call - not the man who couldn't walk away from anything even remotely related to serving his country.

Her daze was broken by Jack's voice. And thankfully, he appeared inclined to change the subject.

"Elizabeth, who is Nathan Grant, exactly?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Your replacement. He came here shortly after you...well, after we thought you died."

Jack turned to look at her. "What's he like?"

Elizabeth smiled again and leaned against the woodpile. "Quiet. He's very different from you. No one really knows just what he's thinking. He's nice though, and definitely a mountie through and through. He's always been kind to me, in his way."

"You like him." Jack said quietly.

She looked at him. "Yes. And you will too."

"I'm sure I will." His voice trailed off. A cloud came over his face just for a moment, but it lifted before Elizabeth could say anything about it.

"There's someone else new here, too. The saloon owner, the one who dresses up way too much." He said, this time with a bit of a smirk.

Elizabeth laughed slightly. "Yes, that's Lucas. He's...well, you might not like him as much."

"Why is that?"

"Just a feeling. He's different from you too, but not in ways where I think you two will see eye to eye."

Jack didn't respond, he just looked at her. There was something in his eyes that Elizabeth didn't like, and she quickly tried to break the tension.

"We should get back." She said with a smile.

Jack nodded. "After you."

She paused. "Jack?"

"Yeah?"

She gestured at the pile. "The wood."

"Oh. Right." Jack put the gloves back on and reached down to grab three split logs. The two then turned to go back into the house.

* * *

"Will everyone please calm down?!"

Abigail was shouting, but her voice couldn't be heard over the cacophany that filled the church. Everyone had gathered there to discuss the arrival of the two strange city gentlemen, and the discussion had quickly deteriorated into argument. And not just one argument either, everyone appeared to be arguing with everyone else. She sighed and collapsed down into a chair. Her mother had just recovered from her illness a few days prior, and she had been so excited to come home to peace and quiet, only to be greeted by both the impossible-yet-wonderful news that somehow Jack Thornton was alive, and the less than wonderful news that the town was being taken over by people from the war department.

Bill was seated next to her. He looked equally defeated by the whole situation. The two looked at each other, then almost as if they were of one mind, stood up and walked out the back door, trying to get just a few moments away from the angry mob inside the church.

"Quite a situation." Bill said.

"You're telling me." She replied. It was dark and cold at this point, but the church had been so hot from the crowd that it felt wonderful to get outside.

"Alright, so, let's go over this again." He said. "These two men - what were their names, Patrick and somebody else - came here saying that they were sent by the war department to increase sawmill production."

"Correct. And I don't remember the other one's name either."

"Not important right now I guess. And Nathan sent a telegram to the war department and said they confirmed that they had been sent here to do just that."

"Also correct."

"I just don't get it, though. Based on what I've heard of other sawmills and coal mines and such in this area, we're one of the better ones. We were doing well."

"Hence why everyone is so upset." Abigail sighed and leaned against the back of the church. "There's more to this than they're telling us."  
Bill stood in front of her, arms crossed over his chest. He didn't like not having the whole story, it offended his meticulous investigative nature. "I need to figure out what's going on. Something's not right."

Abigail looked up at him. "Bill, if they're from the war department, then we can't question them. We don't have any say in those kinds of things."  
"True, but the war department also shouldn't be able to just take over a productive town without so much as a word. There should have been some kind of warning or something. They still haven't told us if we did anything wrong."

Abigail sighed and crossed her arms across her chest. "I hear what you're saying, but, I still don't think we have much of a choice."

"Maybe. Maybe not." Bill said quietly. Abigail could see the wheels turning in his head. He didn't like this situation at all and she had a bad feeling he was going to start poking around in places where he probably didn't belong.

After a pause, she spoke up again.

"Bill?"

"What?"

"Don't get into trouble over this. We'll figure it out, whatever they say."

He gave her a look that she saw a lot from him, and she didn't like it. It was the look that said, he was going to agree with her to her face, but behind her back, it was a different story.

"Sure. I won't go inventing problems if there aren't any."

She sighed again, deeper this time. "Right. Sure you won't."

* * *

It was late at night, but neither Elizabeth nor Jack could sleep. Instead, they both still sat at the tiny table, looking down at cups of tea that had long gone cold. Rosemary and Lee had left after Elizabeth and Jack got them to sort of calm down, but Elizabeth and Jack weren't much calmer themselves after the conversation that they had had.

They weren't going to start spreading this around town, but the situation was bad. Lee had informed them that the sawmill was being taken over because the war department had decided it could produce more. But there was a lot more than that: the war department apparently had also decided that production was low because of the workers, and because of bad management. So the two gentlemen were in charge of bringing in an entirely new work force of outsiders to work the mill...replacing the men from town. The replacements were mostly former soldiers who had been released from the army. The men from town would subsequently be reevaluated for military service; those deemed at all fit would be drafted, and those who were not would either be given remedial jobs in the mill (and paid substantially less), or outright released for the time being.

And there was one more thing: Lee was informed he had been immediately enlisted, and would have to report for service in one week.

It was a lot to take in. The mill was being taken over, strangers would soon arrive, and many of the men from town, who had escaped military service thus far, would be sent away. And Lee was among them.

The hurricane lantern that they had placed in the center of the table flickered. It was the only light in the tiny house, and while normally they both loved candlelight, it seemed to make the house eerie. Haunted, almost.

Jack wasn't good at this. He wasn't good at sitting around, doing nothing, and feeling helpless. His joy at returning home had very quickly been replaced by dread and anxiety, and what made it worse was the fact that he had absolutely no power to do anything about it. Before the accident, before his supposed "death," he had been the go-to individual in the town, the person that everyone turned to for help, advice, and action. Now he was just another person, and most people probably still considered him an invalid. He wasn't even sure if he was still a member of the RCMP.

He abruptly stood up. Elizabeth, who had been staring at nothing, jumped at the sound of his chair scraping the floor.

"I need to go somewhere. I need to talk to the new Constable."

Elizabeth nodded. "He lives in the jail. Where you used to live."

"Alright. I'll be back soon." He leaned down and quickly kissed her on the cheek, then grabbed a nearby jacket and opened the door.

But before he could open it, he heard Elizabeth say quietly behind him, "You can't go."

He turned around and looked at her, confused. "I won't be long."

"Not to see Nathan, I mean. You can't go, Jack. You can't leave us again."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do." She leaned back in her chair. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

He sat down and took her hand. "No, I don't, love."

She looked at him, and her eyes were shimmering with tears, but she refused to let them fall. "You can't try to enlist."

He smiled and stroked her cheek. "Let's not worry about that now."

"I can't not worry about it, Jack. This is exactly the kind of thing you would have done before, you would have said something about duty and honor and you would have been the first person to sign up. And you would go away, leaving me here. Again."

She looked down and, under her breath, added, "Like you always do."

Jack looked down. He had no ability to argue with her on that point; he had left her so many times. And truth be told, enlisting in the army really wasn't on his mind at the moment. A lot had happened in the last week and he wasn't really focused on a war raging thousands of miles away. But he also knew that she was right; two years ago, he probably would have been the first person in line to enlist - and before he had a history of massive injuries, he surely would have been accepted. And he would have gone, again, leaving her behind. Like he had done so many times before.

He looked up after a moment and smiled at her, trying to assuage her fears. "They won't want me anyway. Not an old cripple like me."

She didn't meet his eyes. "There are a lot of people who are older and more crippled than you here, and it sounds like they want them."

Before he could say anything, it was now her turn to stand up.

"I'm going to check on Little Jack, and then I'm going to sleep." She then turned and began to walk up the stairs. Jack felt like there was more he should say, but he couldn't quite find the words. So, he just watched her as she lifelessly walked away, into the dark shadows of the house.

* * *

Elsewhere in town, Lucas found he couldn't sleep either. He didn't think he'd be doing much sleeping for quite a while. He hadn't been privy to the official conversations that had occurred between the two strange men, Lee, and Nathan Grant, but he was a master eavesdropper, so he had all the information he needed. The mill was being taken over, new people were coming, most of the men of the town would be leaving - the situation was about as bad as he could have expected.

He had tried to soothe his nerves in his room, to no avail. Finding that he needed fresh air and just to get outside, he was now wandering aimlessly throughout the streets. Not many people were around, given the blend of the late hour and the frosty air, which suited him just fine. He wasn't in the mood to see, or talk to anyone right at that time.

His concentration however was broken as he saw Jack Thornton approach the RCMP building and knock on the door. Nathan obviously hadn't been asleep, as he answered it almost immediately. The two men seemed to stare at one another for a split second, then Nathan opened the door to allow Jack to step inside.

Whatever the two were about to talk about, Lucas needed to hear. Like Jack, he wasn't good at sitting by idly and watching things happen around him. So before Nathan had a chance to close the door, Lucas rushed up to it.

"I was just coming to see you," he lied. Before Nathan could refuse he pushed his way into the building, and his eyes met with Jack's. The two of them glared at one another. Nathan looked back and forth between them, then sighed, closed the door, and leaned his back against it.

"Why are you here?" Jack demanded.

"Why are *you* here?" Lucas shot back. "It's pretty late to be leaving your wife and child alone at home, isn't it?"

Jack's face darkened, and he took a few slow steps towards Lucas. "My family seems to be of great interest to you."

"Why shouldn't it be? I'm Elizabeth's friend, and her son's as well."

"Our son's."

Lucas laughed a bit, in a way that clearly said, "_Some father you are._" Jack took another step towards him, this time with much more purpose, but before he had a chance to say or do anything, Nathan stepped in to diffuse the situation.

"Did you two come here to discuss anything specific, or just to fight? Because if it's the latter you can do that outside." Nathan said.

The two men stared at one another for another moment, then Jack turned away. Lucas smirked ever so slightly, as he interpreted that as a win for him. Jack saw it very differently; Nathan just thought they were both acting like children, and he had too much on his mind for that.

"I suppose it's the new mill directors you've come to discuss." Nathan said.

"Did you really not hear anything?" Jack asked.

"I checked up on it. Apparently the war department has been trying to increase lumber production, although I talked to two people there who admitted we were one of the more productive towns."

"Then why take us over?" Lucas said.

"It's kind of unclear, I'm getting conflicting information. One person I spoke with said we did need to increase production, but that's true for everyone, and what's more, he wasn't initially aware that the leadership was changing hands. He didn't get why Lee was being replaced. I mean, obviously he'd have to be replaced if he leaves..." Nathan's voice trailed off.

"Leaves?" Lucas asked.

"He's been drafted." Jack added. Lucas looked at him with surprise; he hadn't heard that part of the story.

"Then there was another person I talked to, who said he had heard about the leadership changing hands, and new workers coming in. He said that order came from much higher up, was all he said." Nathan looked down at his feet.

Jack, being a fellow Constable, could tell there was more. Nathan was good at hiding his emotions, but he looked tired, and fatigue always eroded self-control. "There's more, Nathan, I can see it in your eyes."

Nathan looked up, a bit of anger in his eyes. Not at Jack though, anger at the situation.

"It took me a while, but I eventually pried out who exactly this "higher up" authority was. And it's someone I've crossed paths with in the past. Someone I know very well to be corrupt. I was never able to prove it, but..." his voice trailed off. Jack knew there was a history there.

"Corrupt how?" Jack asked.

"Embezzlement. A former RCMP officer, now army official. I know him. I also know he was dismissed because of suspicions that he was involved in criminal activity, though the RCMP could never quite prove it enough to put him in prison."

Nathan took a deep breath. "I'm worried." He added.

"That's clear." Lucas said. Nathan only responded by rubbing his face with his hands.

"We should probably go, you look like you need some sleep." Jack said gently. Nathan looked up at him, then nodded slightly. He moved out of the way so Jack and Lucas could exit.

However, before closing the door, he called back to Jack. "We should probably get you squared away before too much longer."

Jack turned to give him a puzzled look and Nathan smiled. "I'll communicate with the local RCMP directors tomorrow and start the paperwork. It's time to officially bring you back to life, Constable."

Jack grinned. Nathan smiled back, then closed the door.

Jack's happiness at that caused him to temporarily forget Lucas' presence. But that sadly did not last long.

"I wonder if it will still fit. The red jacket, I mean. Might be a little big. You seem a bit sickly, still." Lucas said insultingly.

Jack was losing patience with this. "Where exactly does this come from, Lucas? You and I haven't known each other for even a day yet. It seems a little premature to decide you hate me."

"I'd hate anyone who hurt Elizabeth."

Jack laughed a bit under his breath. "I think I'm finally starting to get it. My mind is still a little slow, unfortunately. But, I think I get it now. And I'll give you credit, you do seem to care for her. I might even think you love her."

Lucas just stared back at him. Jack continued, "But Elizabeth and I have a history. We've known each other for years. We were young when we met, and we've been through a lot. And now, we have a family together. We're building a new life together. So while I'm grateful for anyone who looks out for her, she's married to me, and she's my son's mother."

Jack turned on his heel to walk away. "So she's in good hands."

"No, she isn't. And that's exactly what bothers me." Lucas called back. He hurried in front of Jack and stood a bit closer to him than was probably wise.

"Tell me something, if you were in my shoes, and you saw what I had seen, would you think she was in good hands? Abandoned over and over again by her husband who cared more about his own delusions of grandeur than providing for his family? Left to fend for herself and her son for two years? Then suddenly reunited with the great Jack Thornton, who turns out to be, at best, not in control of his own emotions, and at worst, a man of violent tendencies?"

Lucas was snarling now. "Everyone always spoke about you as if you were the greatest human being who ever lived. But you're just a man who doesn't deserve the respect you're given." Lucas then pointed at the RCMP office. "Nathan in there, he and I have had our differences, but at least I never worried if he was a danger to anyone. But you? That hit to the head you received, maybe it took away more than your memory. Maybe it took away some of your sanity as well."

He was fighting a losing battle. Jack just smiled, refusing to take the bait.

"You do love her. You really do. I'm very sorry for you. Because I'm not going anywhere this time."

Now it was Lucas' turn to smile. "You will. You always do eventually." And with that, he turned and stormed away in the direction of the saloon.


	8. Chapter 8

When the next day dawned, the weather had shifted dramatically. Gone was the bright, glorious sunshine of the past few days; it had been replaced by grey, overcast skies and bonechilling rain. The wind howled and ripped the autumn leaves off of the trees, discarding them on the ground like trash. The world seemed to have gone from autumn to winter practically overnight.

Elizabeth woke up to the sound of the rain landing in sheets on her window, and just from the sight of it she could tell how cold the weather had become. She shuddered to think of how it would be to initially get up and get the woodstove going and a pot of tea brewing. But immediately after thinking that she smiled to herself, as she could feel a large, warm presence in bed right next to her. She could feel his heavy arm draped lazily across her waist.

She rolled over to face him. He was sound asleep, his lips parted slightly, his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks, his hair messy. Up close she could see that even Jack wasn't immune to aging; he definitely had the beginnings of crows feet, and a couple of grey hairs at his temples. It was nothing dramatic and she wouldn't even be able to tell were she not six centimeters away from his face, but it made her so happy to see. She had always dreamed about them growing old together, and before, she believed she had been cheated out of the experience. But somehow, they were now set on the path that they had been before. It was almost like he had never been gone at all.

She took a deep breath in and out, then very gently moved his arm. She slowly tried to get out of bed, attempting to not make a sound and thus wake him. And she was successful - he hugged his arms close to his chest, trying to warm himself, but otherwise showed no signs of waking up.

Elizabeth reached for a flannel shawl she kept on a chair nearby and wrapped it around her shoulders. She then tiptoed out of the room, silently closing the door behind her, and went to see Little Jack, who was also still sound asleep in his small bed.

She looked down at him and noted the striking similarities between them as they slept. Like his father, Little Jack had long eyelashes and almond shaped, topaz colored eyes. Little Jack's hair was bright blonde, but Elizabeth had a feeling it would darken to brown as he grew up. And he had the same high cheekbones and beginnings of dimples.

'_You'll have his smile one day_,' she thought as she watched him.

Satisfied that he was fine and wouldn't be awake for some time, she pulled her shawl closer, yawned, and began to walk downstairs. The house was absolutely freezing; she needed to get more wood and get the fire going, and once that was done, she needed to make a pot of coffee and maybe some porridge. She slipped the boots she kept by the door on and walked outside, where she was immediately greeted by a sheet of what felt like ice to her face. She shivered, pulled on Jack's spare gloves, and ran to the woodpile to gather up a few logs.

But, just as she had taken two of them off the top of the pile, she dropped them, as she was startled to hear the sound of screaming. And it was coming from inside her house.

She ran back inside, not even closing the door behind her, and sprinted up the stairs.

'_Jack!_' she thought.

She ripped open the door to the bedroom. Jack was still in bed, and apparently still asleep, but having an awful nightmare. His eyes were closed but he kept screaming, kept yelling things that were incomprehensible, and his hands were clutching his head, as if he were in agony. He writhed on the bed.

"Jack!" She yelled as she approached and shook him by his shoulders. "Jack! Wake up! WAKE UP!"

Jack's eyes instantly went from closed to wide open, and they were filled with terror and pain. His face was now pale and covered in sweat, and he felt cold and clammy to the touch. His hands, which had been holding his head, stretched out in front of him and he grabbed Elizabeth's arms. He was breathing very heavily, gasping for air.

They sat like that for a moment before Elizabeth pulled him into a tight hug. He didn't hug her back, he still wasn't lucid enough to understand that he was awake, and fine, and that it had all just been a horrible dream. He just continued to pant and gasp, his eyes wildly looking around the room. She could feel his heart thumping in his chest.

"It's alright, it's alright," Elizabeth said over and over again, holding him close. "Shh. It's alright."

As he began to realize what had happened, he reached around to hug her back. His hug wasn't gentle though; it wasn't a husband lovingly hugging his wife. It was the hug of a desperate soul clutching onto whatever comfort he could find. And before he could stop himself, he started to cry.

* * *

Events were moving fast. No sooner had the strange men arrived in town that the army followed. As the town was warned, they told every able-bodied(ish) man to report for physical evaluation. And this time, more were deemed to be in acceptable condition than not. Some still escaped: chronic limps, missing fingers, a nasty cough, or maybe just advanced age, all of these were grounds for rejection. When Lucas reported, his heart murmur again disqualified him, as it had before. Nathan Grant raised some eyebrows among the army officers, as he was clearly in perfect health, but they had orders from higher ups that specifically said Nathan should not be conscripted. This made Nathan very, very curious about who those higher ups exactly were, and what exactly they thought was so important that a strong and relatively young man was of more use to the country in a tiny industrial town than at the front.

Bill, who was at that point too old for active service, though was told he could possibly be called up for homefront duty, could only watch. Hope Valley was not a hopeful place that day. The grey sky, rain, and chilly temperatures all seemed to match the mood of the townspeople. He watched wives sob into their husbands shirts and tiny children beg the indifferent army officers to leave their fathers alone, all to no avail. What the army said was the law, and no one could do anything about it.

In the aftermath of watching all of this, he decided to go visit Jack and Elizabeth. Jack seemed fit as ever during their journey from Silverton, though Bill guessed that could have just been due to adrenaline and excitement. Now that he was back, he probably was feeling the effects of an exhausting journey. Bill also wondered about his head injury, and whether it caused him headaches. He thought it might be a good idea for Jack to be evaluated by a doctor.

He approached their home, but as he got closer he could see Jack in the backyard chopping wood. Bill wasn't really sure why, Elizabeth had a woodpile that reached almost two thirds of the way to the roof. Lucas frequently replenished it for her, as did Nathan occasionally. She was in no danger of running out any time soon.

"Jack!" He called.

Jack turned to look at him, and it made Bill stop walking. Jack looked absolutely awful - red-faced from exertion and haggard. But mostly, he looked angry. Extremely, desperately angry.

The two stared at each other for a moment, then Jack wiped his brow with his sleeve. He then picked up his axe and went back to mechanically chopping wood.

By this time, Elizabeth had exited the house. "Bill." She said to him. Bill looked at her; she looked very tired.

"Is - is everything alright?"

She sighed. "Come inside." She then turned and walked into the house.

Bill followed her and closed the door behind him. Elizabeth filled a kettle and put it on the stove, then pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders and sat down at the table. "Sit down, if you like." She said, her voice sounding just as tired as her face looked. Bill complied, albeit slowly; he had a feeling more bad news was coming.

"What's wrong with Jack?" He asked, trying to keep his voice down so Jack wouldn't hear him.

"He had a nightmare last night. An awful nightmare."

It had been as Bill suspected. The ordeal wasn't over for Jack. Not by a long shot.

"I don't think that's very surprising, with everything he's been through."

"It was horrible Bill. I've never seen Jack like that, never. He was screaming, and when he woke up, he couldn't stop crying for almost an hour. Then when he did finally stop crying, he got so angry. He started raving, and talking to himself."

Mood swings. Nightmares. Talking to himself. Bill didn't like the sound of this.

"Jack never gets angry. But now he's just all fury. I tried to talk to him but he didn't want to. He just paced around the house for a while, then started chopping wood. I guess he needed something to do. He's been doing it ever since."

Bill sighed and rubbed his face with his hands.

"Elizabeth, I really think Jack needs to see a doctor. I think he's clearly got some lingering effects of his injury."

"I tried to tell him that, but he wouldn't listen. He said something about doctors stealing his life and all being liars, or something like that. It didn't make much sense."

"I think he was probably talking about the doctor who misidentified him, who wasn't a liar exactly, but Jack probably blames him for what happened."

Elizabeth looked down at her hands. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to make this worse for him, but I want to help him, if I can."

Bill reached out and took her hand. "We all want that. And I'm sure this will pass. He's just been through so much for the last two years, and the past week has been absolutely crazy. It was inevitable that he was going to have a crash after being so elated to be home."

Elizabeth nodded. "I figured that too. I knew it was too good to be true, that he would just be back and everything would instantly be as it was before."

"We need to give him time, Elizabeth. He'll be alright. He's still Jack, he just needs time to remember who he is. I mean, he remembers who he is, but...you know what I mean."

Elizabeth laughed a tiny bit. "You're right. He remembers his name, but I don't think he quite remembers who he is on the inside."

She then looked at him and Bill could tell she was going to change the subject. "I heard from someone that the army is here."

Bill released her hand and looked down at the floor. He nodded. "Yes, they're here. And they're taking more of the men with them than we would have thought."

"We've avoided the war for too long. So far, we had only seen three or four go off to face the guns. That wasn't going to last."

Bill nodded again. "And there's no end in sight, unfortunately."

"No end in sight to what?"

Bill and Elizabeth both rapidly turned towards the door, where Jack was standing. Up close he looked even worse. He looked like a sick, wet dog.

Bill looked at him blankly. "The war. Two years it's been going, and it doesn't look like it'll end anytime soon. Some people from the army did evaluations in town today. A lot of men are being taken."

Jack's face didn't change.

Elizabeth stood up and walked over to Jack. "We should get you some dry clothes. You're soaked from being in the rain."

Jack didn't say anything, he just pulled away from her. He had been holding one of the many logs he had just chopped, and he deposited it into the woodstove. Bill was somewhat disturbed to see Jack seemingly mesmerized by the fire as he crouched down and put the log in. He stared into the fire as if in a trance. Jack had run the whole gamut of emotions that day: fear, anguish, and anger, and now he seemed completely hollow.

Elizabeth saw this too and she walked over to him to close the door to the woodstove. It brought Jack's attention back to the room and he stood up.

"I'm going to go change. It's late, Bill, you should head home. I'll come to see you tomorrow." Jack said quietly as he walked up the stairs. Bill could do nothing but watch him walk away, then after Jack had closed the door to the bedroom behind him, Bill turned to Elizabeth. She was clearly trying very hard not to cry.

Bill reached out to take her hand again. "It'll take time." He whispered to her. She nodded, but Bill had a bad feeling that she didn't believe him this time.

* * *

The saloon was crowded that evening. All the unmarried men who had been drafted had come to drink away their troubles; those who were married had rushed home to spend as much time with their families as possible. Lucas had never seen the place like this; it was packed with people, and yet it was quieter than it was when it was empty. A few people spoke in hushed tones, but for the most part, the men just stared into their glasses in silence as they consumed tumbler after tumbler of whiskey.

Lucas always prided himself on being a people person. He had to be, all bartenders did. It was practically in the job description: pour alcohol and be someone that anyone could talk to. But he was useless this time and he knew it. A few of the men even gave him nasty looks, and Lucas knew why. His heart murmur was a complete non-factor, there was no reason why he should be disqualified from conscription, and yet men almost twice his age with actual physical ailments were being taken. He'd probably hate him too, if he were in their shoes.

And as if the tension from being conscripted weren't enough, one or two army officers had made the incredibly insensitive decision to order a drink as well. They were silent too, but not out of depression. They had brought papers with them, papers that Lucas figured were probably conscription orders, and they methodically read them over, jostling down a note or two every now and then. They sat perfectly contented at their tables with their own drinks. Lucas couldn't believe anyone could be that cold. It wasn't enough that they told half the men in town, many of them husbands and fathers, that they would soon be sent away, they had the audacity to parade themselves around as if nothing had happened, and as if they hadn't just ruined the lives of over a hundred people.

Restless yet again, Lucas now obsessively wiped down the bar and table counters, finding any little remedial task to do in order to occupy his mind. When he took empty glasses off of the table where two officers sat, they only briefly glanced up at him. He glared at them, then turned away.

"Wait a minute."

Lucas turned back around; they were addressing him. He didn't say anything though, he just stood there, still glaring at them.

"I know you." One of the officers said.

"You don't know me, old man." Lucas growled.

The officer looked him over for a moment. "I do, I know I've seen you. Where are you from, originally?"

"Edmonton."

"Did you attend university?"

"Yes."

"And yet you work in a saloon in a town in the middle of nowhere. Excellent use of your education." The other officer said cynically. Lucas did his best to ignore it.

"What about after university?"

"I drifted for a while, then came here."

The officer stood up and came face to face with Lucas. "No you didn't. You were in one of my classes!"

That made the cynical officer look up. "What do you mean by that?"

The first officer smiled. "I mean, this boy was a medical student! Your name...what was your name? Don't tell me, I'll remember it." The officer snapped his fingers a few times.

Lucas turned and started to walk away. Other people in the saloon had overheard this conversation and were now all staring incredulously at him. He needed to get out of that room fast.

"Lucas!"

Lucas stopped dead.

"That's your name! Lucas, yes?"

He turned around slowly but was unable to say anything.

"Yes, yes, now I remember! You were in my course on water-borne diseases, in your last semester at the medical college. You were one of the best, if I recall correctly. But I also recall that you dropped out just weeks before you were set to graduate."

One of the townsmen now spoke up. "You're a doctor, Lucas?"

"No. I'm not a doctor." Lucas turned around again and walked very quickly towards the door that led to the back room.

"Only because you dropped out for no reason! You should be one." The officer called after him. Lucas wasn't going to stop this time. He slammed the door shut behind him, then leaned against it. He clutched his chest as his breathing immediately increased. He was now gasping for air.

He wasn't going to admit it, but once the man had mentioned the medical college, Lucas remembered him. Doctor Yanic Redmond. Even though the war had taken him away from the hallowed halls of academia and into the army medical corps, Lucas remembered him as a distinguished professor and a legendary doctor who published many articles in journals about infectious diseases as well as human anatomy. His knowledge of both was no doubt why he had been given the task of evaluating sick and injured men to determine whether they were fit for service. And he had indeed been one of Lucas' professors...and Lucas had indeed attended medical school, only to drop out one month before graduation. He destroyed his celebrated and promising medical career literally with his own hands, burning all of his medical textbooks and vowing to abandon the profession forever. All of his friends and family begged him to tell them why. He had been such a promising student, set to graduate top of his class, why on Earth would he drop out?

But he had never told any of them the reason. And he never would. He told them it didn't matter - he would never practice medicine again. The reason, however, never left him. It haunted his dreams. It had made him turn to drink in the immediate aftermath - that was how he learned bartending, after befriending a bartender who took pity on him. He had come to Hope Valley to try to escape everything that had happened.

But the war meant that his past had finally found him.


	9. Chapter 9

There were few things that Nathan Grant hated more than being confused, and the situation on hand was more than just a little perplexing. The war department was taking over the mill, citing a lack of production, but a quick glance at production levels (which were public knowledge) across British North America showed that theirs was one of the most productive lumber operations in the West. The workforce of their mill was being almost entirely replaced by new men, and the majority of the original workforce was being sent off to war. This begged the question, why replace trained men with untrained men, men who would take weeks to learn the mill's proper functions, and thus impact production when production levels were what they cited in the first place as the issue? And Nathan wondered above all else, why take Lee, but not him? Lee was the manager of the mill, he knew its inner workings. If anyone should stay in order to help increase production, it was Lee. Meanwhile, Nathan was probably ten years younger than Lee, in perfect health, and when push came to shove, wasn't really needed by the town for much on a daily basis.

But, it wasn't until this day, about a week after the initial arrival of the two new gentlemen who were taking over the mill, that his confusion turned into anger. He stared out the window of the RCMP office as he watched the new workers get unloaded from wagons, his mouth literally dropping open at the sight of them. These men were all in their late twenties or early thirties, and they were strong. Fit. Healthy. The army thought that middle aged fathers, many of whom had chronic injuries, would make better soldiers than these? It made absolutely no sense. Nathan almost felt insulted at the sight of them.

'_Did they really think we wouldn't question this?_' he thought to himself.

The sight of the new men arriving gave him the push he needed. That evening, he entered the saloon, which raised some eyebrows among its patrons. Nathan was never there unless there was trouble. He quickly noted that Lucas was nowhere to be seen; instead, a man Nathan had seen substitute for Lucas on occasion was tending bar.

Two figures that were present however were the two army officers. They were there every night since their arrival They looked up at Nathan as he approached them, and Nathan got the impression that they had been expecting him.

"Gentlemen. Do you mind if I join you?" Nathan's tone of voice strongly indicated that it was a demand, not a question. One of the men sighed and looked down at his drink; the other gestured to a chair. Nathan pulled it out and sat down, folding his hands on the table in between them.

"How can we help you, Constable?" The one who had sighed said.

"You can start by telling me your names. You've been here for several days now and I still haven't officially made your acquaintance. Unless you count getting prodded during a physical as getting acquainted."

They ignored his sarcastic remark. "My name is Captain Yanic Redmond, and this is Captain Harold Walker." The one who had spoken was famous in the town at this point; he had been the one who revealed that Lucas at one point had been a medical student, something Nathan found absolutely preposterous. But then again, a man had just returned from the dead, and Lucas being a doctor was less crazy than that (though not by much), so Nathan just shrugged it off.

"Glad to meet you both," Nathan said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Now, I have some questions for you."

"I'm sure you do." Captain Walker said, again with a sigh.

Nathan gave him a nasty look. "I couldn't help but notice the wagons full of new arrivals this morning. Good looking bunch. They look very strong, I'm sure they'll be good workers in our mill."

The two men looked at him. Everyone sitting at the table knew where this conversation was going.

"And?" said Walker.

"And, I just find it a little interesting that they aren't soldiers themselves. I'm finding it a little difficult to comprehend why the army doesn't want them, and yet they want a bunch of middle aged fathers from our mill. Many of whom aren't the healthiest individuals."

Captain Redmond opened his mouth to respond, but Nathan interrupted him. "I also find it more than a little difficult to comprehend why the army wants nothing to do with me. If anyone in this town should be sent to war, it's a trained member of the RCMP in good health."

"Get to the point, Constable." Walker said. Nathan looked him dead in the eyes and sneered.

"I've already made my point, Captain." Nathan said coldly. "This entire situation is absurd, and there's something you aren't telling us."

Captain Redmond looked around. No one was directly watching them, but a quick glance revealed that they obviously had the attention of the room. No one else was speaking, and people kept quickly looking at them, only to look away when they made eye contact with him.

He leaned across the table so his face was close to Nathan's. "Of course there is." He said very quietly.

Nathan wasn't expecting him to admit it so easily, and his face changed from menacing to puzzled. "What, then?"

"We can't discuss it here." Captain Remond said.

"We shouldn't discuss it anywhere." Captain Walker said quietly. "The buildings in this town all have eyes and ears."

"The RCMP office, it's much more private. We could go there." Nathan suggested.

The two captains exchanged a look with one another, then they both abruptly stood up. Nathan stood up as well.

"It's late, Constable. We should be turning in." Captain Redmond said. "But, I'll say this to you: exercise some caution under your own roof."

"What does that mean?" Nathan said.

Captain Walker came up to Nathan's side so he could speak closely to his ear.

"It means, you shouldn't be interrogating us. You should be interrogating your own superiors in this matter." Walker said, practically whispering.

Nathan turned to stare at him. This entire conversation had only created new questions, it hadn't answered any. Was he implying that the RCMP somehow had something to do with this?

"The RCMP has nothing to do with army operations." Nathan responded, though the confidence of his statement was contradicted by the uncertainty in his voice. And that uncertainty was only made greater when he heard Walker make a noise that sounded something like a snort.

"And here I thought you were smart." Walker said as he walked away. Redmond gave Nathan one last look, then turned to follow his colleague up the stairs to their rooms.

* * *

In the days before their marriage, Elizabeth had daydreamed a lot about evenings at home with Jack. Her visions were nothing elaborate, they were nothing fancy; they simply involved coming together to share a hot meal and a conversation. They would mostly talk about mundane things, like how their days had gone, or a current event, or if there was some gossip about someone in town. They might share a joke or two. Conversation had never been something they struggled with.

Until now, that is.

Jack had been having a lot of trouble sleeping. Sometimes he would wake with a nightmare, other times he would suffer from insomnia and would get up in the middle of the night to perform some task that didn't need to be done. And the lack of sleep showed on his face, as he had quickly developed very deep undereye bags, and the flush in his cheeks was gone.

Not to mention, he wasn't eating either. She had placed a bowl of beef stew and a hunk of bread in front of him, and he merely pushed it around with his spoon in silence.

"Not hungry?" She asked, trying to be cheerful. She knew that wasn't the problem - he hadn't eaten lunch or breakfast either - but she had to get him to say something.

But he didn't. He simply shook his head and didn't look up.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and exhaled. She wasn't really hungry either; seeing Jack like this robbed her of her appetite as well.

"Jack, you should maybe -"

What she was about to say was interrupted by the sound of Little Jack crying upstairs. The sound was enough to give Jack a jolt, and he stood up quickly and rushed up the stairs. Elizabeth watched him go, pausing for a moment before she too stood up and went up to see him.

By the time she got there, Jack was already hugging Little Jack. It was an effective tactic; Little Jack hugged him back, resting his cheek on his father's shoulder. Jack was making very quiet "shh" noises and rocked him from side to side.

Elizabeth smiled from the doorway. "You're so good with him."

Jack looked at her and smiled a very weak smile. He didn't respond though, he just went back to making the "shh" noises, completely focused on Little Jack.

Elizabeth decided to leave them alone, and she went back downstairs. The house was pretty dark, lit only by the glow of the woodstove and a small hurricane lantern placed on the counter. She looked at the two mostly uneaten bowls of stew resting on the table. They were cold by now, and she figured no one would be eating much that night. So, she dumped the uneaten bowls back into the pot containing the rest, then took the pot out the back door to the chest where they kept perishable food, which effectively worked as an icebox in the winter.

The air outside was frigid but felt good. She paused for a moment, closing her eyes and taking several deep breaths. In only a matter of days the house had become stifling, even uncomfortable. Jack was unpredictable; when he was happy he would give her compliments and flirt with her. In those moments, he was the same Jack as she had known years ago. He would also play with Little Jack, and would help her with things around the house. He might even whistle while he did them. However, those moments were getting rarer by the day. Instead, he was usually dead silent, his face completely blank. She would often find him staring off into space, or worse, with tears in his eyes, tears that he would quickly brush away once he noticed her looking at him.

And then there were the nightmares. He hadn't woken up screaming again, but Elizabeth was careful not to leave him alone in bed. Now when he woke up, he woke up sweating and panting, his eyes wild. He would clutch his chest as if that would somehow make his heart slow down. And then he would get up and say that he needed fresh air. He told her not to worry, he always kissed her goodbye, but she would watch him as he walked out the door, and he most definitely was not alright in those moments. She tried to talk to him a few times, but his response was always the same: it was nothing, it was just stress, he would be fine soon.

She didn't know how to help. She knew nothing about this sort of thing. She really needed to speak to a doctor about what to do.

'_A doctor. Like Lucas._' She thought.

She hadn't seen much of Lucas since Jack had come back. She wasn't entirely sure if he was avoiding her, or if she was avoiding him. She knew their first meeting in the post-Jack-apocalypse would be awkward. They had been very good friends for years now, and Lucas was the first man who made the thought even cross her mind that there might be a second chance at love for her. She liked Nathan too, but she knew there was no chance she would ever be with another Mountie. She would never go through all of that pain again.

But Lucas? Lucas was never in any danger unless his patrons somehow got out of control, and even then the biggest risk to him was broken glass. Not to mention, he was charming, friendly, charismatic, and sweet, but he also had a rakish sort of way about him. He was wonderful with Little Jack too. Nothing about their relationship had ever progressed beyond a dance and an occasional long look, but Lucas had made her think a lot about the letter that Jack had left for her, the one that he meant for her to read if he ever were killed in action.

'_I hope you'll be open to love again._' It had read. When she read it, she hated him for writing it. But over time, she loved him for it. He wanted her to be happy more than anything else.

Now things with Lucas were completely different. She had the love of her life back, and Lucas was a friend. A friend who she had been just as astonished as everyone else to hear that, far from being a laid-back bartender, at one point had been mere weeks away from being a doctor. And the funny thing was, the more she thought about it, the more she could see it. Lucas had a rare sort of empathy about him, he could instantly see what was bothering someone and he could make them feel better about it. He cared about people. So while she didn't know much about his academic prowess, she could see the potential in him.

"Elizabeth?"

Her eyes opened and she turned around to see Jack standing in the back doorway.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked.

She smiled at him, trying to play off her pensiveness. "I was just putting the leftovers in the icebox. Or that's what I call it. It's a box, and it's cold out, so, it's basically the same thing."

He walked up to her and took her hands in his. "You'll have a real one soon."

She smiled back at him. "I don't need a real one. I don't need anything. I have everything I'll ever need." She said lovingly.

She had meant the remark to be sweet, but her face fell when she saw Jack look sad at the sound of it. He looked away from her and down at his feet, still holding her hands.

"Hey," she said quietly, reaching out to touch his face. He didn't look up.

"I wish you would talk to me about this." She said quietly.

Jack swallowed hard. "I wish I could."

"Well that's progress. At least you aren't denying it." She said, trying to make a half-hearted joke. Jack didn't laugh, or even react.

"Jack, I started to say earlier, I think you should see someone about this. In fact I was just thinking, maybe you could talk to Lucas."

At the sound of that Jack did look up. "Lucas?"

"Yes, apparently he's been keeping a secret from us. He went to medical school! So he might know something about this."

"About what?" Jack's voice was darkening.

"About your symptoms lately. Maybe it's related to your injury."

Jack's face then completely changed. He had looked sad before. But now his face twisted into a smile. But it was far from a normal smile. It was a dark, foreboding kind of smile, a dangerous smile. Elizabeth's eyebrows furrowed in response. She had never seen Jack look like this before, or at least, not at her.

"And what symptoms are those, dear?" He said loudly and cruelly.

Elizabeth didn't know how to react, so she just stood there for a moment looking confused. When she did finally speak, she said, "You've been, well, depressed. And you won't eat. And you aren't sleeping."

"You wouldn't eat or sleep either if your wife was unfaithful."

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open. "What?!"

Jack's smile turned into a grin. "You heard me. I take it you and Lucas became good friends in my absence. I never really pegged you as the type who would go for someone like him."

Elizabeth found herself getting angry, but she tried to remind herself that this was just another example of Jack acting completely out of character.

Before she could speak though, he continued with, "How many times?"

"What do you mean, how many times?"

Jack leaned his face close to hers. In the darkest voice she had ever heard come out of his mouth, he responded, "I mean, how many times. Once? Twice? A regular event? You put my son to bed and then bring him into yours?"

She couldn't stop herself. She slapped him. Hard.

Jack's hand went to his cheek, and then he looked at her. He licked his lips; her slap had split his lip, and she could see a tiny amount of blood appear. For a moment, she thought he might hit her back.

But he didn't. He just turned and walked away into the dark night.

* * *

"Whatever this is, it better be good." Bill called out with annoyance. "It's three in the morning."

He rubbed his eyes as he opened the door. There, in the hallway, he saw Nathan Grant standing in front of him.

"Do you ever sleep?" He grumbled.

"As little as possible." Nathan responded as he pushed his way in. Bill sighed and closed the door behind him.

Nathan then turned, and responded, seriously this time, "I'm sorry about the hour. But I was awake thinking about this, and I needed to run it by someone."

"And it couldn't wait another four hours?" Bill asked.

"No. Because I'm going to be on the 5 AM stage."

Bill felt himself perk up a bit at the sound of that. "You're leaving? Why? Where are you going?"

"Calgary."

"Calgary? What for?"

"My direct superior is posted there. I trust him. I've known him since even before I was RCMP. He's been in my life since I was fourteen. I joined because of him."

Bill furrowed his eyebrows. "Okay, good for you I guess, but, I assume there's more to this."

"Yes. There is. I spoke with the men from the army earlier."

"I heard. Your conversation is the talk of town."

Nathan snorted. "Without a doubt. Not that we talked about much. And that's exactly the problem."

"What do you mean? What did they say to you?"

Nathan looked around a bit. He saw that Bill had a window open and he went over to close it.

"The room gets really hot with that closed, you know."

"I'll reopen it in a second." Nathan then took a number of steps closer to Bill, so that the two were mere inches away from one another. Whatever this was, it was clearly a secret.

"Bill, have you ever heard of there being connections between the RCMP and the army?"

"Of course. It makes sense that there would be."

"No, I don't mean normal connections related to law enforcement. I mean, something like..." Nathan's voice trailed off. He didn't quite know where he was going with this himself. He just knew something was wrong, and that the army officers had all but told him there was.

"Something like?" Bill prompted him after a moment of silence.

Nathan took a deep breath. "I really don't know exactly. But in our conversation I got the impression that the officers were trying to tell me something, though they couldn't come out and say it. Like, there might be a connection between the RCMP and the army that isn't about doing good."

Bill cocked his head slightly. "Corruption? Is that what you're suggesting?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe. And that's what I need to find out."

Bill nodded a couple of times. "That's what you're going to see this superior of yours? To discuss this with him?"

Nathan nodded back. "He knows about most RCMP activities west of the mountains. He might know something."

Bill put his hands on his hips. "Alright then. Any idea how long you'll be gone?"

"I don't know, but I'll try to be back as soon as I can. It might be two weeks."

"I'll hold down the fort then."

Nathan nodded once. "That's why I came, so, that's good to hear."

The two men stared at one another for a moment.

"So, is there more, or can I go back to bed?" Bill said.

Nathan laughed a bit. "Yes, you can go back to bed. Sorry I woke you." He walked towards the door and opened it.

Bill turned before he closed it behind him. "Nathan?" Nathan turned and looked at him.

"Try to hurry back. I have a bad feeling about all of this. I think we're going to need a Constable around. And Jack is in no position to do it."

"Still bad then, is he? I've been meaning to check on him."

"He didn't look so good the last time I saw him."

Nathan looked down at the floor and frowned. "Keep an eye on him, Bill. I've heard about head injuries like that. They can turn people into something they're not."

Bill nodded in response. He had heard the same thing.


	10. Chapter 10

The first of October in the year 1916 would forever be remembered as one of the darkest days in Hope Valley's history. It, along with the day of the mine disaster, was forever etched in the memories of dozens of women and children who had to bid farewell to their fathers, sons, husbands, and brothers. Both days felt identical, and the women who had been through the first of the days couldn't believe that it was happening again. Just when they thought they had moved on and found some peace, fate intervened once more. They started to wonder if they were cursed.

For the most part, things were running smoothly. No one had slept the night before so everyone could hear the wagons as the creaked along the road that led into the center of town. All of the men identified for conscription were ordered to be ready to depart at 8 AM on the dot, and no one tried to hide from it. So, the entire town was there: the men, most of them looking frightened; their wives, who were all crying but tried to be strong; and their children, who made the most noise, screaming and wailing and clutching their fathers for dear life.

One army official held a clipboard and was checking everyone's name off a list as they climbed up into one of the wagons. This was the hardest thing to watch for everyone else, since it was the last moment that they had with their families, possibly forever. A few townspeople made a point to shake the hands of those who didn't have families, as they didn't want them to go off to war with the idea that no one was thinking of them.

Amidst it all stood Lee and Rosemary. Rosemary had tried to be chipper, as she always was, for as long as she possibly could. She packed a bag for Lee containing clothes he would never wear ("They give you a uniform, Rosemary, it's the army," he had said), a few bites of his favorite foods, a novel that he loved, and, most importantly, pictures of them together. Pictures from major moments in their life, and pictures that they had taken secretly while on picnics or long walks. Lee didn't care about anything else in the bag, but as he watched her pack, he knew those pictures were coming everywhere with him for as long as he was away.

They stood in the queue together. One by one, men kissed their children goodbye, embraced their wives, shook hands with a fellow townsperson or two, and finally gave their name to the man with the clipboard and climbed into the wagon.

When Lee was fifth in line from the front, Rosemary abruptly turned to him.

"Remember, I packed four pairs of wool socks. You're going to need them, winter will be here soon."

Lee smiled at her lovingly. "I know, sweetheart."

She continued. "And, I packed your copy of The Pickwick Papers. I know you've read it a hundred times but it still makes you laugh, so I thought you might like to have it."

"I know."

"And there are a few pictures too. I know I couldn't pack all of our photos so I had to choose a couple. They're mostly just silly photos, since you always said you like those the best out of all of ours. I also put in one from our wedding, just so you would occasionally think of me." She said that last sentence in her usual sing-song, happy-go-lucky way, but her voice also broke a bit when she said it.

He took her hand in his and kissed it. "I'll be thinking of you every day I'm away."

Rosemary smiled at him and straightened his tie. Her face, as usual, was an outward display of happiness, but her tears gave her away. Lee reached out to brush them off her cheeks, and at his touch, she finally broke down. She collapsed into an embrace with him and sobbed.

They remained in that embrace as one, two, three, and finally four men in front of them went through the process. It was Lee's turn.

He gave his name to the army officer with the clipboard, who didn't even look up, he just checked his name off of his list. He kissed Rosemary, hugged her close, then unlocked his arms from her. She let him go, but held onto his hand for as long as possible as he climbed into the wagon. He once again kissed her hand, then released it. She sobbed, wrapped her arms around herself, and was gently moved out of the way by another townsperson.

She didn't break eye contact with him until the wagons rolled out. Some children chased after their fathers for a short while but were scooped up by their mothers, who tried to comfort them. Everyone watched as the wheels clicked and clattered on the road as they rounded the corner to leave town. And everyone tried very, very hard not to think it was a bad omen that the last sight they saw of the wagons was them rolling past the Hope Valley cemetery.

* * *

There had only been four people from Hope Valley that hadn't witnessed the men leaving for the army. Lucas had stayed far away; he had effectively gone into hiding ever since the army officers revealed his medical school past, and moreover, he still wasn't over the shame of being rejected from army service because of an asymptomatic heart murmur that should never have disqualified him. Nathan also wasn't there to witness it, as he had left two days prior on a very early morning stagecoach, his destination unknown to all but Bill. And the final two people were the Thorntons.

Jack hadn't returned home since their argument, and Elizabeth was frantically searching for him. She was so angry with herself for how she had acted. Yes, he had insulted her, but it wasn't him talking, and she knew that. He was going through something horrible right now, something that was inside his head. His physical injuries were gone but the scars on his soul were much slower to heal. She wasn't a doctor and she didn't know if this was due to the injury, or if it was due to the stress of what he had been through, or what. She didn't know anything. All she knew was that he was in no condition to be alone, no matter what he said or did. He needed her, and she had failed him.

Her panic was increasing though as she was running out of places to look. He hadn't been home. He wasn't in the RCMP office, or anywhere else in town. He wasn't at the school. He wasn't with Bill. Bill was now helping her look, but they had run into each other after hours of searching and neither had found him. They had even thought to check the old mine, and he wasn't there either.

She was directionless at this point. She had checked everywhere she could think of. And as she walked along the road back into town, she had her hands on her hips and she took deep breaths, trying desperately to keep her anxiety under control. She just wanted to see him, to know that he was alright, and to tell him that she loved him and that they would get through this together.

But the road into town went by the cemetery. The women of town had watched their husbands leave town past this very spot hours before. And now, as Elizabeth quickly walked back to town, she looked over at the graves. She stopped to look a little harder at one of them.

JACK THORNTON

She thought about the man who was actually buried in that grave. Joshua Miller. She felt such a tremendous amount of both guilt and gratitude towards him. He had saved two people, one of whom had been her husband. He had sacrificed himself, and yet he didn't even have the dignity of his own name on his grave. She felt angry with herself for how she handled her fight with Jack, but she was even angrier about her callous treatment of the man she thought had been Joshua Miller. She kept saying to herself that she would visit him in Silverton, but she never went, because she was selfish and didn't want to see the man who was alive while her husband was dead. It was an awful way to look at it, completely disrespectful to her husband's sacrifice. And now it felt even worse knowing that she could have fixed the whole situation years ago, had she just been a little stronger.

She shivered. The sun was high in the sky but it was still a very cold day. She felt her panic returning when she thought how Jack must have spent a freezing night outside after their argument. Under normal circumstances this wouldn't bother her, as Jack knew everything there was to know about wilderness survival, but he wasn't in his right mind. He could die of exposure. And she hadn't gotten him back just to lose him like that.

She started walking into town again, hell bent on finding him.

* * *

What Elizabeth had forgotten however was perhaps the most obvious place that Jack would go: the plot of land he had purchased for them before he had left. It had been the first place he thought of. Or rather, the *first* place he thought of was the sawmill, because he needed materials. The sawmill was deserted, which he didn't think twice about. He was oblivious to it but it was empty because the workers were departing and the new ones hadn't started yet. So, it was just a pure stroke of luck that he could simply walk in, take what he needed, load it onto a cart, and leave without anyone seeing him.

He now worked obsessively. In a matter of hours, the foundation was in place. Now, he was taking measurements and writing them into the notebook that he had used years ago for drawing. He knew all of the dimensions, and where all of the rooms were going to be that he had planned out two years ago. He had found his rough blueprints mixed in with Elizabeth's files, which despite his depression made him smile a bit, and he wondered if she had plans to build the house without him. He hoped that even if he had never returned, she would build it. She would build the house, and fill it with her family.

'_Her family._' He thought. It made him stop working. He collapsed onto the ground, breathing hard. He covered his face with his hands and laid down on his back.

He couldn't believe what he had done. She had suggested that he see a doctor, a doctor that she was friends with, and he jumped to the most obscene and insulting conclusion possible. He accused her of unfaithfulness. And when she reacted as any woman would and tried to slap some sense into him, for a fraction of a second, he had wanted to hit her back. To think of it now absolutely terrified him. What had he become?

And more to the point, why would it be so bad if she had moved on? If she had found happiness with some other man? It wasn't unfaithful to try to find love again after your spouse died. He had written her a letter about this, he remembered writing it. It had been an awful thing to write, but he knew it contained things that she needed to see in case he ever were to not come back. He had wanted her to be happy, and to have a family. He wouldn't lie, he didn't enjoy thinking of her with someone else, but it was even worse to think about her growing old and dying alone without any joy in her life. Some people were perfectly content to be by themselves, and for a while before meeting her Jack had thought he was one of them. God forbid if anything ever happened to her, he didn't think he'd ever remarry, he hadn't even intended to get married once until he met her. But Elizabeth? She should be surrounded by loved ones, always. He hadn't wanted to be the reason that she wasn't.

This wasn't him. He knew it as well as she did. He knew the same Jack that she knew, and he was not a violent man. On the contrary, he was a peaceful man. A gentle man. A man who loved his wife, and now his child, more than life itself. A man who would do anything to ensure their safety and happiness. And what was more, he was an intelligent and level-headed man, a man of law and order. He didn't let his emotions get the better of him. But it was as if he had woken up a completely different person. A person with no control over his own emotions or faculties, who would swing from happy to distraught to angry to empty in mere minutes. A person who stared off into space in silence for hours at a time because he was trying to make sense of the tempest going on inside his head.

For the first time in his life, Jack wondered if Elizabeth had been better off without him. He wondered if it would have been better for him to have either truly died in the rockslide, or to have never regained his memory. He would have just remained a ghost living in the forested hills, while she would have found love with her friend and they would have formed a family together. Elizabeth would have a husband who loved and protected her. Little Jack would have a father, and he might even be joined by some little half brothers or sisters. When he compared it to what they had now, it sounded so much better for everyone involved.

He snapped out of his thoughts as he heard shoes crunching on the dried grass nearby. He sat up and looked. And there, standing in front of him, was Jesse.

He seemed to have grown an inch or two. He looked stronger than Jack remembered, more like a man and less like a boy. His hair was cut ruthlessly short. And Jack instantly noticed that he was wearing an army uniform.

Jesse stared at him for a second, his face blank, but then he smiled. "I thought you might be here."

Jack stared back at him. "What?"

"Bill told me you were missing. And I immediately thought of this place."

Jack looked at him for another moment, then got up to his feet. "Jesse." He walked quickly over to Jesse, who grinned back at him, and the two embraced in a tight, powerful hug. They remained locked like that for a few moments.

Without releasing the hug, Jesse said, "Not dead then. Didn't believe it when I first heard it. I thought they must have all gone crazy."

At the sound of that, Jack released him. "Them crazy. No, you've got that wrong." Jack then turned his gaze to the ground.

Jesse smiled again. "Elizabeth told me all about that."

Jack looked up. "She told you all about what? You've been to see her? And the uniform, you're in the army, so why are you here at all?"

"Let's take those one at a time. We'll start with the easiest: yes, in the army. Have been for a year. I'm here because I'm on leave, though I won't be here past today. I head to Saskatoon tomorrow."

"What's in Saskatoon?"

Jesse held up his left hand, where Jack saw a flash of gold. "My wife."

Jack looked at him incredulously. "Clara?"

Jesse nodded, grinning. "Right before I left for basic training."

Jack went to him and pulled him into another tight hug. "Congratulations! I'm so happy for you too. You're lucky she waited this long!"

Jesse laughed. "She said the same thing." And that made Jack laugh as well.

After they released the second hug, Jesse's face then turned serious again. "So, we covered the army, and why I'm here. I believe you asked if I had seen Elizabeth, and yes, I have. And she told me all about you coming back, and what it's been like. She also said there was some unpleasantness a little while ago."

Jack turned away at the sound of that. He couldn't even imagine what she had said.

He paused, then said very quietly, "I hope she knows I'd never hurt her."

When Jack glanced up at Jesse again, he saw something there that he hadn't seen in anyone since he had come back. Jesse's face was filled with compassion, which lots of people had, but it also had something else. It had understanding.

"She knows that. We all know that. And we know this isn't your fault."

Jesse looked away from Jack and surveyed the materials that Jack had scattered about. He took note of the foundation of the building that Jack had managed to build in record time. And he walked around a bit, just taking everything in. At the rate he was going, Jack was going to be done this house in two weeks. That wasn't a good thing; he was going to work himself into the ground. But Jesse understood it. He understood the compulsion to keep your mind and body as occupied as possible. He understood it all too well.

He then continued with, "Have you ever heard of shellshock, Jack?"

Jack shook his head. "No."

Jesse was looking off into the horizon. "It's pretty much exactly what it sounds like. It's when a person who has been in the war comes back and they're not themselves. They're much more afraid. They shake, even at times when there's absolutely no danger, because of their memories. They hear the bombs in their head. Everywhere they go, everywhere they look, they can't forget about the noise. They can't forget the horror."

Jack stared at him. He hadn't been to war, he hadn't heard bombs. He hadn't been afraid for his life in that sense. But there were things in his memory that wouldn't leave him either. Or rather, they were flashes of memories that he hadn't quite been able to get organized. It was part of the reason it bothered him so much, because it was so convoluted and scrambled. He was afraid of something he couldn't quite see clearly.

Jesse looked back at Jack. "Now, I know it's not quite the same thing with you. But I have seen a lot of men go through it, and I gotta tell you, from what Elizabeth told me, it sounds almost identical."

Jesse turned and took a step towards Jack. "She said you have nightmares all the time. That you stare off into space. Your emotions can swing wildly. Sometimes you seem perfectly normal, but other times you're a completely different person. Nothing makes sense in your head, it's all a tangled mess. You don't eat. You don't sleep much, because of the nightmares."

Jack was silent, but a lump was forming in his throat.

"And, you're worried about completely losing control. You're worried about getting violent with someone you love. It's why you're here: because you're trying to stay away. You don't want to hurt anyone, so you just completely withdraw."

Jack wanted to say something in response, but there just weren't any words. He didn't know how it was possible, but Jesse understood. He knew everything that Jack was going through. Jack hadn't had to say a word, and yet someone had complete empathy for him. And it gave him the greatest feeling of relief. He had wanted to talk about it with someone. He had even thought he might try at dinner the other night, the dinner that turned into a disastrous fight. He hadn't just because it still didn't completely make sense to him. But here Jesse was describing exactly what he was going through.

He felt tears come into his eyes and fall down his face. He didn't sob though. It wasn't a wild, uncontrolled sort of crying like he had experienced following his nightmares. These were tears of, not quite joy, because nothing about this gave him any joy, but, maybe the word was 'gratitude.' Gratitude that someone understood.

His eyes were shut and he was still crying when he felt Jesse's hands come to rest on his shoulders. When he opened his eyes, Jesse was at arm's length, looking back at him with nothing but the kindest expression Jack had ever seen.

"Can I give you some advice, Jack?" Jesse said quietly and gently. "I know you think this is going to help, closing yourself off, but it won't. It's going to make it worse."

Jack bit his lower lip, which was trembling.

"But I'll tell you what I've seen help a lot of people: being with their families, and telling them everything they can. Even if it's rambling and doesn't make any sense, it's still therapeutic. And just knowing that there's someone who loves you listening gives a lot of comfort."

Jesse wasn't done. "And I'll tell you something else. Something that you once told me, here, in this very spot. That is something is meant to be, you'll find your way back to each other. You told me that about Clara and I, and look at us. So now, look at you and Elizabeth. You have literally come back the dead. How can you deny that you two are meant to be after that?"

Jack still couldn't respond. He was just crying like a baby in front of Jesse. But Jesse didn't look bothered by it at all.

"So don't give up, Jack. You'll get through this."

Jesse pulled him into a hug. "Everything will be alright." He whispered. "It'll all be alright in the end. I can't tell you it's easy, but you will come back from this."

Jack sobbed once. "How do you know? How do you know it'll be alright in the end?"

Jesse smiled, although as the two were still embracing, Jack couldn't see it. "Because I've been there myself. I know exactly how you feel."


	11. Chapter 11

Nathan hadn't been to Calgary for several years. It had grown tremendously since the last time he was there. He remembered it as a relatively small city; obviously it was much, much larger than Hope Valley, but that wasn't saying much. But now, it had increased exponentially in size. The streets were filled with fashionable looking people, and as he walked along them, he felt incredibly uncomfortable. Businessmen in impeccable suits chatted on corners. Small boys shouted "Extra! Extra!" as they tried to sell newspapers. And beautiful women smiled at him and tried to engage him in conversation. He merely tipped his hat and kept walking; they yelled after him things that ladies of the country would never say in public, which made him blush. He wasn't used to people being so forward. He also passed many other men dressed in red serge, and they exchanged a quick salute.

All in all, the city was loud, crowded, dirty with industrial dust, and he nearly got run over by cars three separate times. Nathan, who considered five people too large a gathering, absolutely despised it.

He hurried along the streets carrying a piece of paper in his hand. It had an address on it, the address of one of the four RCMP offices in the city. He couldn't believe a single city merited four separate RCMP offices; when he said that out loud at the first one he visited, the Constables had laughed at him, and told him that if he thought that was bad, he should go to Toronto. Nathan made a mental note to never, ever do that. He had been to Toronto once already, and once was quite enough.

A great sigh of relief exited his mouth as he finally saw the building he was looking for. This particular RCMP office was unassuming, unlike the last one he had been to, which was large and ostentatious. This one could be easily missed if you didn't know what you were looking for. It made him smile - it was exactly the sort of place he had envisioned his friend and mentor working at.

He took a deep breath and opened the door. As he walked in, he saw three other mounties sitting at desks, typing on typewriters. They gave him surprised and puzzled looks, as they had never seen him before. Calgary had a large RCMP presence but everyone pretty much knew everyone else. This man was a complete stranger to them.

"Can we help you, Constable?" One of them said as he stood up.

Nathan removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. "Yes, thank you Constable. I'm looking for Major Constable Harry - sorry, Harrison Porter."

The mountie narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Is he expecting you?"

"I sent a telegram a few days ago. I'm coming in from the west, from a country town called Hope Valley. I've known the Major Constable for years."

The mountie crossed his arms over his chest, surveying Nathan. The two made eye contact and paused for a moment. Nathan could tell this mountie didn't entirely trust him, but he didn't mind. Nathan didn't trust people on first glance either.

"Alright." The mountie finally said. "Follow me."

The mountie turned and led Nathan down a narrow hallway. Nathan could feel the other mounties watching him as he left the main room.

The hallway led to a small wooden door on the left-hand side. The mountie knocked twice, then paused.

"Yes, come in." Nathan heard an exasperated sounding voice say on the other side of the door. The mountie opened it and entered the room. Nathan followed.

"Major Constable, this man says he's here to see you."

Nathan smiled at the sight of Harry. He looked exactly as Nathan remembered: gray haired, in his sixties, with a stern face and a bit of a paunch. Harry though, had not looked up, he was scribbling something on a piece of paper, a frown on his face. He didn't respond for a moment, but as soon as he finished hat he was writing he at last glanced upwards, his face a sheet of frustration and annoyance at being interrupted. It softened immediately though at the sight of Nathan, and he grinned widely.

"Nathan! Nathan Grant, joining us from the wilderness." He stood up and walked over to Nathan. The two ardently shook hands. The mountie who had accompanied Nathan looked like he would fall over from the surprise; the Major Constable was never this friendly with anyone.

"Leave us, Constable." Harry said gruffly, not even looking at the other mountie. The mountie immediately complied however, not wanting to incur the Major Constable's considerable wrath.

"And Constable?" Harry called out before the mountie had had a chance to escape. The mountie turned apprehensively.

"One of your buttons is coming loose. Fix it. And do it yourself, don't make your wife do it. Her time is more valuable than yours." Harry said disparagingly. Nathan had to fight not to smile. The mountie gulped, then rushed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"Nathan, Nathan, Nathan." Harry said, putting his hands on Nathan's shoulders. "You look wonderful. The countryside agrees with you."

"Much more than this place, I'll tell you that much." Nathan responded.

Harry laughed. "It's gotten a lot bigger since you were last here, hasn't it? Not for the better, mind you. I never thought I'd miss the piles of horse manure lying all over the place, but I think I'd take that over the millionaires with their ridiculous open top automobiles."

"You'd like where I live. Cars are very rare. We're still fans of the old fashioned stage coach."

"Stage coach?" Harry said with a roar. "I thought they stopped using those years ago."

"They did. We're just slow to catch up with the rest of the world."

Harry laughed again, then gestured for Nathan to sit in a chair. Nathan did, and Harry returned to his chair behind his desk. He leaned back in it and folded his hands on his stomach.

"So. You've come to see me. And knowing your hatred of cities I know that this must be somewhat important."

Nathan took a deep breath. "Yes." Harry always avoided small talk, as he had better things to do. Nathan was very appreciative of that fact, as he was horrible at small talk.

"As you know, I'm posted in a place called Hope Valley, formerly called Coal Valley. I wrote you about it a year or so ago."

"Yes, I'm familiar with the place. I looked it up after you were posted there, it sounded perfect for you."

"It is, I've been very happy there. But, recently, there have been some...developments in town. The army ignored us for two years, but they've suddenly arrived with a vengeance."

"Not uncommon. The war is dragging on and they need to have a handle on production."

"Yes, and I understand that. But there's a lot about it that makes me uncomfortable. They took us over saying they needed to increase production, but we were already above average in that regard. They took our workforce, which was largely composed of middle aged men with ailments, saying that the army needed them, but then replaced them with young workers, who look more like soldiers than our townsmen ever did. They took our main manager, a man who knows the production cycle like the back of his hand, which, that's not going to help production."

Harry was listening carefully, an intent look on his face.

"And, the army had no interest in me. If anyone from town should be drafted, it's me."

Harry smiled. "Well, that one I can answer for you. They're not interested in you because I labeled you off limits."

Nathan's mouth dropped open in shock. "It was you? Can you do that?"

"Of course I can. I can't do it very often or the army won't listen to me, but on a case by case basis, I can have some influence here and there."

"Why? Why did you want me to stay?"

Harry's smile faded. "Nathan. What you're telling me now, about the production in your town, it's nothing I haven't heard before."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, this is happening more and more as the war goes on. The army comes in, takes over production, and does a poor job of it. So poor in fact, that it leads one to wonder exactly what their motives are."

Nathan was silent. Harry leaned forward across his desk, looking down at first.

"We've had some interesting reports come in from all over. Production is cited as the motivation for a takeover and a personnel replacement, but then production actually falls post-takeover. And shoddy bookkeeping. Very shoddy. Shoddy to the point where money goes missing."

"Missing?"

Harry looked up and made eye contact with Nathan. "Yes, missing. Vanishes into thin air. Problem is, nothing in life vanishes. Everything goes somewhere. And we're very interested to know where that money has gone exactly."

Nathan was beginning to connect the dots. "You think people are embezzling from the army?"

Harry paused and leaned back in his chair again. "Yes, but there's more to it than that. We've seen some hints that the army and certain branches of the RCMP might be getting a bit too comfortable with each other. An unholy alliance seems like it's forming."

Nathan was shocked. "You think the RCMP might be involved in this too? As in, they're embezzling too?"

"Think about it. People in the army, people who don't have the army's actual best interest at heart, make the case that production is falling in tiny outpost towns. These towns don't have a major RCMP presence, it's just individuals like you, so it's a lot easier to overrule local law enforcement. If they did it in big cities people would notice, so they stick with smaller areas. And the branches of the RCMP that are nearby that do have more than one person in them still aren't massive, and they could be bought off. The RCMP leaves the army alone in exchange for a cut."

Nathan's mind was a whirlwind. Harry was telling him that, not only was there corruption in the army, but in the RCMP as well. It made him think back to his brief conversation with the two army officers in the saloon - they had abruptly ended the conversation after he had suggested they go to the RCMP office to discuss what was going on. Did they think he was one of the corrupt RCMP members? Were they worried that others would somehow listen in? No other RCMP officer was stationed in Hope Valley, unless you counted Jack, and he certainly wasn't involved in any of this.

"Why haven't I heard about any arrests related to this?" Nathan finally said, with a hint of anger in his voice.

"Because thus far we don't have any concrete proof. Just speculation and a whole lot of circumstantial evidence. And that's where you come in."

"Me?"

Harry smiled at him. "I didn't keep you out of the army just because I like you. I like a lot of people, even though I don't act like it. I've seen plenty of good men go off to war. No, I singled you out because I thought this might happen. I knew your town was an industrial town, and I had my suspicions that the corruption we've seen elsewhere might come knocking on your door sooner or later."

Nathan stared at him. He finally had his answer as to why he hadn't been drafted - it was because he was the only person in Hope Valley who could investigate this.

Harry smiled again. "So, you have a job to do Constable. I suggest you get home quickly and get to it."

* * *

Elizabeth was kicking herself for not thinking of their plot of land. It should have been the first place she had looked. Of course Jack had gone there. It was isolated but not too far away, and probably gave him a lot of peace.

Jesse couldn't stay in town for long, but he had come to see her for a brief visit. She happily embraced him and gave him a cup of coffee, and he revealed that once Bill had told him that Jack was alive yet missing, he had immediately thought of the house that Jack had started to build two years prior. Jesse had been there with Jack several times before his "death" and they discussed building plans together. Jesse remembered how excited Jack had seemed, and how driven he had been to start building his new life, both literally and metaphorically. It had been the thing that made Jack's death so difficult for Jesse to comprehend at the time, the fact that all those dreams could be so abruptly and ruthlessly ended. And now that Jack had miraculously returned, Jesse figured that Jack would be eager to start up where he left off.

As soon as they said farewell and she told him she was praying for his safety, and that he should say hello to Clara for her, Jesse left, and Elizabeth ran to the plot. And as she approached, sure enough, there was Jack, working like a man possessed.

She watched him for a moment as he carried wooden beams, placed them, and hammered in nails. He was working incredibly fast, he didn't think twice about anything he was doing. He was more driven to work than she had ever seen him. The day was mild and sunny, and he had removed his outer flannel shirt and was working in just his undershirt, which revealed that he had lost a considerable amount of weight. He was still muscular, but his chest looked more hollow than normal and the waist of his pants was loose. His face looked gaunt and his eyes sunken.

He didn't see her. He didn't see anything, he was so focused on working. She was relieved to see he was alright, but knew she needed to say something to him.

She began walking towards him, slowly. The dried autumn grass crunched beneath her feet but he didn't hear it. He just kept hammering nails.

She stopped about twenty or so feet away from him. He finally reached a point where he had to get another piece of wood, and he picked it up, but once he looked up from his stack of wooden beams, he saw her, and froze.

The two just stared at one another for a moment. Elizabeth knew that she had to be the one to break the silence.

She smiled at him and took a deep breath. "I'm glad you're alright."

Jack looked away from her. His face was a mixture of awkwardness and pain. He still didn't say anything.

"Jesse told me you were here. He said you were working hard. A little too hard."

Jack abruptly then turned and placed the wooden beam he was holding in place on the structure. He reached into his pocket to take out some nails and grabbed his hammer that was lying on the ground. He went back to hammering nails into place.

Elizabeth watched him as he did this. She knew he wasn't going to talk to her unless she forced him. So, she took a few confident steps over to his side and grabbed his right arm, pulling him up to standing. He flinched at her touch and refused to meet her eyes, but didn't push her away.

"Jack. You have got to talk to me." She said sternly to him.

He said nothing.

"Jack," she repeated, with a bit more desperation and sadness in her voice this time. "Please." Still, he said nothing, but she could see his lower lip trembling slightly.

A few moments passed, and she could barely hear him as he whispered, "I'm sorry."

He then looked up at her. His bottom lip was trembling.

"I can't be near you right now. I can't be near anyone. I'm not safe to be around right now." He said, his voice cracking.

She reached out and took his face in her hands. "Jack. You are not a violent man. You are the gentlest soul I've ever met. And you are not dangerous right now, you are hurting. And you need to talk to me about it."

Jack said nothing in response. He looked down, and Elizabeth could see a single tear fall down his cheek.

She pulled his face back up so he would look at her once more. She smiled gently at him, and said softly, "Little Jack misses you."

Jack was startled at the sound of that. "Is he alright?" He asked.

She nodded. "He's fine, but he's been asking for Pa. He calls you Pa now, did you know that?"

More tears fell, and Jack couldn't contain a tiny sob. He pulled his face out of her hands and looked down, trying to hide from her. "I'm a failure, Elizabeth. I'm such a failure."

The sound of that broke Elizabeth's heart. She pulled him into a tight embrace. At first he didn't hug her back, but she could feel his arms travel gently to her back. He barely held her at all, and Elizabeth figured that he was so worried about hurting her that he was hesitant to even touch her.

Elizabeth was crying now too. "You are the farthest thing from failure, Jack. You are the the most wonderful man on Earth. I can't even believe my life sometimes, to think that I have someone like you in it."

Jack cried into her shoulder. "I feel like I'll never come back from this. My head - it never slows down. It won't let me sleep. I keep seeing things, visions that I don't know if they're real or not. There's no order to them, no reason."

"What do you see, Jack? Tell me about them."

She could feel him collapsing under his own weight. She gently guided him towards the ground so he wouldn't fall, but she never released him from her embrace. They were now seated on the ground together, her hugging him tightly, him clutching at her dress.

"People. I don't know if I know them. The wilderness at night. Heavy rain. And I hear shouting. Everyone is worried, everyone is panicking. People are scrambling to gather things up. It's dangerous, it's not safe, everyone keeps saying. I hear my own voice saying the same thing."

"What else? Tell me what else, Jack."

"I hear screaming. Someone is in pain. I see someone, and then he disappears. And I'm falling. And then I'm dizzy and I can't stand up. I'm bleeding. I touch my head and it's covered in blood. And I'm in so much pain. And then it's just black."

Elizabeth continued to hug him tightly as he went silent for a moment, sobbing into her shoulder.

"I don't know what any of it means." He said with anguish. "And I try to make sense of it all, but I just get confused again. And it makes me angry. It makes me say things I don't mean. It makes me worry about what I'll do."

Then he abruptly pulled out of her embrace, and now took her face in his.

"I'm just so sorry. I wish I had never come back."

Elizabeth took his hands firmly in hers and gave him a very stern look. "Do not ever say that to me, Jack Thornton. Don't you dare say that to me ever again."

He looked down; his sobs were deeper, the crying uncontrolled. He put his forehead in his hands.

She touched his shoulders gently. "I can't explain anything that you're experiencing right now, except to say that your mind is not your enemy here. You think it is, but it isn't. It's trying to make sense of everything too. It's trying to put things in the correct order. It's trying to help you. So don't fight it."

She continued, even as he didn't look up. "And know this, Jack Thornton. You have a family. You have me, and you'll always have me. You have a son. And we love you more than you will ever know. You will never be alone in this, ever. So you build a house, if it makes you feel better. Shout and scream, or cry, do whatever you need. If you want me to leave you here, I will, but I will be back every day to check on you. You'll never get rid of me, so don't even think about trying. You couldn't get rid of me when we first met, and you sure as hell won't be able to now."

He let out a sound that was a mixture of crying and laughing. She smiled at him, and once again gently took his face in her hands and made him look at her. His eyes were bloodshot, but appeared to have a glimmer of hope in them.

"You and me. Forever. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part. And I think as we've seen, even that is sometimes negotiable."


	12. Chapter 12

Abigail sat alone in the cafe. Business had been, understandably, very slow since most of the town's men had left. The women didn't seem very interested in socializing or eating out, and the new men who had been brought in to work in the mill worked very long hours and seemed to just want to sleep once they had finished. Occasionally one of her regulars would come in, or a child would ask for a pastry or two, but for the most part, she found herself wiping down unused tables.

This hadn't been the homecoming she was hoping for. Her mother had come down with smallpox months before, and everyone had expected her to die. It was a disease that frequently killed even the young and healthy, so an elderly woman wasn't expected to be any match for it. But her mother had joked with her that she wasn't done with life, and she fought. And somehow, miraculously, she had won, and Abigail eventually felt it was safe for her to return home to Hope Valley.

On top of that though, as she was preparing to leave, she had received a telegram that was so preposterous that she thought it was some kind of cruel joke. But Bill had confirmed it in a rare telephone conversation: Jack was alive, and back. It wasn't until a little later though that the truth of his condition became apparent. So, what should have been a homecoming filled with new beginnings was one where she had to say farewell to most of the men of the town and watch as Jack and Elizabeth struggled.

Her concentration on the cruelty of fate was broken by hearing the door open. Bill stood there and shyly smiled at her. She smiled back. They hadn't spoken since the meeting several days back.

"Coffee?" She asked. He nodded. As she got up to get it for him, Bill sat down with a sigh. He rubbed his face with his hands.

"I'd ask you what was the matter, but I think the better question is, what isn't the matter." She said as she placed the cup in front of him.

"A very good question. There isn't much that isn't the matter these days."

She smiled and sat back down. She tried to think of a conversation topic that wasn't complete doom and gloom.

"Nathan's been gone for a little while. Do you know where he went?" She inquired.

"Calgary. Said he needed to see some supervisor of his there."

"Ah." The conversation seemed to die there. Abigail figured she had suggested a topic; now it was his turn.

She was wrong though. That wasn't the end of it. After a moment, he said, "He told me something though, before he left. Something odd."

"What was it?"

Bill shifted in his chair slightly. "He said that he needed to talk to this supervisor about some business between the RCMP and the army."

"Well there's nothing strange there. They've had connections forever."

"I don't think that's what he meant. He seemed to be implying that there was some unsavory business going on there. Which is honestly what brought me here to see you."

Abigail was interested at this point. Like most townspeople she had found the arrival of the army men, and the new workers, very strange, but she was too preoccupied with thinking about her mother, Elizabeth, Jack, and her normal mayoral duties (which had piled up in her absence) to pay much attention.

Bill reached into his coat. "I've been paying our two new overlords a few visits here and there. And I've just been casually looking at their documents. And I found -"

"Casually looking at their documents? You mean breaking and entering?"

"I didn't break anything. Unless you count the code on the safe."

Abigail sighed. Typical Bill.

"So anyway, I found some records in the ledger. It's way too early to see what they're doing here, but these ledgers go back pretty far. We're not the first town they've come to take over. They've been all over Central Canada."

"We're not in Central Canada."

"I know. And based on what I've seen, I think I know why they left."

He unfolded a piece of paper that had some scratch marks on it. Abigail looked it over, but it was all but illegible.

"I can't read this Bill. I could never read your handwriting."

"I jotted down anything I found in the ledgers that looked strange. And there was a lot of strange stuff in there. They're either very bad at math and desperately need a new accountant, or they have literally lost money. As in, it has disappeared."

"And I'm guessing you have an idea of where it went."

Bill nodded. "I think they stole it. And there's more too: some of the money didn't disappear, but its destination wasn't what it should be. Like, for example, if you were to hypothetically buy 300 tons of iron from an ironworks, who do you think should get paid for it?"

"Um, the ironworks?" Abigail replied. It felt like a trick question.

"You would think so. And they did get paid. But they weren't the only ones to receive payment. Apparently another recipient was the RCMP. So either the RCMP was overseeing the transaction, or it was an example of money laundering. Skimming off the top."

Abigail exhaled. "Hoo. Okay, that's not good."

Bill nodded. "I really, really wish Nathan was back. I'm sure he'd love to hear this."

"So where do I come into this story?" She asked, sounding tired. She didn't think she had room in her head for another life complication.

Bill gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you want me to do? You said this is what brought you to see me. I assume you're about to give me some unsavory sounding job that I will not want to do but you'll somehow talk me into it, the way you always do."

Bill looked back at her blankly. "No, I wasn't going to give you a job. I just wanted to talk to someone about this. It's a difficult thing to just keep to yourself."

Abigail smiled at him. "I think you might be getting old, Bill. You never used to need to talk to anybody about things like this."

Bill grinned and looked down sheepishly. "Yeah, maybe. But sometimes, you just need someone to talk to."

* * *

Jack's hands were raw and his fingers were bleeding. He knew he should have been wearing gloves for all of this, but he didn't have any with him and he didn't feel ready to go back to Elizabeth's house to fetch his old ones. But working on the construction was the only thing that seemed to give him any semblance of peace these days, so he kept going. And the house was coming up so quickly that he had begun to worry about what he would do with himself once he finished, because at the rate he was going, he'd be done by November.

Ironically though, the hard work had actually made him feel quite a bit better. His mind wasn't quite the roar that it had been when he had nothing to do and was surrounded by people. It hadn't slowed down much, but at least when he was outside in the fresh air and working with his hands he had something to channel his energy into. He never left the plot; he had gotten a sleeping pad, blankets, and one spare change of clothes from the RCMP office (Nathan hadn't been there), so he didn't need anything. He once had to go back to the sawmill to take some more materials, but he went in the middle of the night. There was no guard, which seemed bad. It made him sad to think that that meant Lee was gone, as Lee never would have made such a mistake.

Elizabeth, true to her word, came by once a day, usually in the evening. She brought him hot food for dinner and bread, cheese, cold meats, and an apple or two for the following day, at which point she would return the next evening and the cycle would start again. She forced him to eat his dinner in front of her, which made him laugh the first time, but he complied. His appetite had recovered somewhat as well. He still wasn't ravenous, despite the heavy physical work he had been doing, and he knew his clothes were getting a bit loose, but he had energy, which was all he cared about. And Elizabeth usually seemed satisfied with how much he would eat when she came.

He looked up at the sky as he picked at a blister on his palm. The sun was going down; she would be there soon. He smiled to himself, as he had started to look forward to her visits. They had even managed to chat a bit the last few nights. She would tell him about Little Jack, and he would talk about which room he had worked on that day. It almost felt normal.

He walked down from the plot to the stream nearby in order to wash up. He hadn't had a proper bath in a while and he knew he must not smell, or look, very good. His beard had grown in and his hair was getting too long again. Still, he tried to make himself look as presentable as possible.

While rubbing the cold water across his arms, he heard a twig snap behind him. He smiled. Elizabeth.

"You're early today!" He called, not turning around. "What's on the menu tonight?" His sense of humor was recovering too.

When he heard no response, he shook his hands of water and turned around. The smile died on his lips when he saw the person standing there.

It wasn't Elizabeth. Instead, Jack found himself locking eyes with Lucas.

Neither said anything at first. Lucas looked somewhat unsure of himself, and Jack looked suspicious.

"What are you doing here?" Jack finally said, a bit colder than was really necessary.

Lucas took a deep breath. "I don't really know, exactly."

"Long ways to come from the saloon if you're just looking for a walk." Jack said as he walked past Lucas, heading back up the hill to the plot.

"I wasn't looking for a walk, and I wasn't at the saloon."

"Your business is your own." Jack responded, trying to end the conversation, if it could be considered a conversation.

Still, Jack didn't hate Lucas. He wished he did. He thought his sense of style was atrocious, especially considering that this was a tiny country town where the word 'overdressed' didn't even begin to cover it, and he still wasn't entirely comfortable with Lucas' friendship with Elizabeth. But Jack's mind had begun to slow down just a bit, he was thinking a little more clearly, and the thought of Lucas didn't infuriate him the way it did before. He had been kind to Elizabeth, and Jack couldn't hate anyone who had been kind to her.

Lucas followed him up the hill. He still hadn't said anything though, and the way he was just watching him made Jack uncomfortable.

"If you're not going to say anything, you should leave. I'm expecting my wife soon."

"I know. She told me that she's been coming to see you every day."

Jack flinched a bit to hear that, as he wasn't wild about this situation - him isolated and Elizabeth going to see Lucas on the regular - but he couldn't blame her for needing someone to talk to.

After another pause, Jack said, "So...why are you here?"

Lucas shoved his hands into his pockets. "She told me you've seemed better lately. She says you're eating again, and you seem a bit more coherent."

Jack smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, it's been good to have something to do. I was never one for sitting around."

Lucas nodded. "Keeping occupied will definitely help with it."

Jack glanced at him. "Help with what?"

Lucas grimaced. He hadn't meant to say that.

"Nevermind."

"No, I insist - help with what?"

Lucas squirmed and looked around. He surveyed the progress that Jack had made on the house.

"Don't even think about changing the subject." Jack retorted, before Lucas could even try to. Lucas gave him a dirty look; he had read his mind.

"Help with the coping."

"The coping?" Jack said bluntly. "The coping with what, exactly?"

"With your head."

Jack was getting annoyed. Lucas was talking in circles and he didn't like it. His own mind was confusing enough without adding perplexing conversation to it.

"Lucas, I really wish you would just get to the point, whatever your point may be."

Lucas looked him in the eye. His face was serious, and couldn't be described as kindly exactly, but it didn't look unkind either.

"I just wanted to check on you. To see how you were doing."

Jack almost laughed. The idea that Lucas, a man he had nearly come to blows with several times, would express any kind of concern for him was hilarious.

"Well, I appreciate your kindness." Jack said sarcastically. Lucas didn't know how to respond, so he just stood there very awkwardly.

"You can leave now." Jack finally said.

Lucas looked up at him.

"I heard you used to draw."

Jack groaned. Why wouldn't he just leave?

"It was a hobby of mine, yes." Jack expected Lucas to start making fun of him for it.

He didn't though. He just nodded. "Have you been drawing lately?"

Jack shook his head. "I don't have any paper, and I don't think I'm in the mood for it anyway."

"You should try. It'll help. In a lot of cases, art can help people. Help them make sense of things that they otherwise wouldn't be able to work out."

Jack stared at him. The conversation had turned very bizarre. Lucas was a bartender, and he despised Jack, so to hear him talk about art and coping mechanisms as if he were a friend trying to help threw him off. Still, it made sense, what he was saying, and Jack had definitely turned to drawing more than once in the past in order to relax or reflect on something that bothered him. He had also drawn a lot during his time in the hills, it was one of the few pieces that he had retained of Jack Thornton when he otherwise forgot himself. But still, he wasn't sure what game Lucas was playing at.

Lucas looked up from the ground. "Elizabeth really hasn't told me much, in case you were wondering. She says its private and between you two. But when she said you're eating a little bit again and that you seem better, I thought that seemed like a good sign, and I wanted to see it for myself. You're still out here working like a maniac though, so you're probably not even close to normal yet. And you look thin."

While Jack didn't love the idea of discussing very intimate emotions with a man he barely knew - he had trouble talking about them with Elizabeth, and she was his wife - Lucas wasn't wrong. He seemed to know at least a little bit about what was going on in Jack's head. And he wouldn't admit it, but Jack had actually been thinking about trying to get some paper and pencil lately, as his hands had been itching to start drawing some of the things he saw in his dreams.

And, Jack was also strangely grateful. Lucas didn't have to do any of this. Jack had never given him any reason to give a damn about him, and here he was, almost acting like he cared about his well-being.

Jack finally said, "I heard you're a doctor."

Lucas's expression instantly changed. "Then you heard wrong. I'm not a doctor."

"Fine, you were going to be one, right before you dropped out of school."

Lucas didn't respond apart from deepening his frown.

Jack picked up a tool and started playing with it. He wasn't actually doing anything, but he figured it would be better to look only mildly interested in what he was about to ask, and Lucas, who Jack guessed knew about as much about tools as Jack knew about medicine, wouldn't know the difference.

"Have you ever heard of something called 'shellshock'?" Jack asked, trying to sound disinterested, as if he were just making casual conversation.

"Of course I have."

"It seems to be fairly common, thanks to the war. Jesse was telling me about it. Do you know Jesse?"

"I know Jesse. I also know he had shellshock, probably still has it a little bit. He improved a lot though."

Jack got a curious look on his face and his attempts to appear distant vanished.

"He had a bad case?"

"They're all bad cases. And it's existed long before the war. Shellshock is just the term army people give to it. We always just called it 'psychological trauma' or something like that."

"We?"

"Medical professionals. I mean, not we, them. But the effects of psychological trauma are pretty well known, and they're common across people. Army experience isn't unique in that regard. They're handling it shamefully though. They dismiss it as cowardice. People have even been shot for it, which is just evil. As if you could be in a trench for months, surrounded by explosions all the time and watching your friends die, and somehow not have any aftereffects. I wish they'd take me into the army just so I could knock some sense into them on that score."

Lucas then took a deep breath in and out. "It's interesting that you bring it up, because I think you've got something similar. I know you haven't been to war, but it's far from the only cause. We've seen this kind of thing in a lot of people. People who have been through rough events. Really rough events. The saddest cases are in children." His voice drifted away.

"Children go through this?" Jack asked, his voice filled with disbelief. He couldn't imagine such a thing.

Lucas nodded. "Awful to think about, isn't it? They're so helpless. You think you don't know how to cope with this, imagine having even less understanding of the world around you. And a lot of the time, they don't have their parents, or worse, the parents were the source of the hurt in the first place. It's the hardest thing you'll ever see."

The two men went quiet. Jack was deeply impressed. Lucas had a far greater degree of empathy and compassion than he had previously given him credit for.

Lucas was eventually the one to break the silence. He broke it with a question.

"Do you get dizzy, Jack?"

Jack looked puzzled, but he answered. "Not really. Maybe if I haven't had any water for a while."

"Headaches?"

"No."

"Do you ever feel nauseated?"

"Usually not. Why all the questions?"

Lucas took a deep breath. "Just curious I guess. Those are all good though, it means that you're probably not having any physical aftereffects of the injury. That's always something we worry about, but I think you're physically fine. It's just trauma that you're trying to get over. And it may not feel like it now, but I think you're doing well. You're already a lot better than the last time I saw you."

He then quickly added, "I mean, I'm guessing. I don't know for sure."

Jack had to smile. He couldn't help it. Lucas was such a bad liar.

"Lucas." He said slowly. "You keep using the word 'we'."

Lucas's face took on a very obvious look of disgust. Not with Jack, but with himself. He had said way too much. And it made Jack's smile grow larger.

"You're doctoring me now, aren't you?"

"Doctoring you?"

"Yeah. These are the questions doctors might ask. You can take the man out of medical school, but you can't take the medical school out of the man. I think that's what I'm getting from this. Is that also where you picked up your incredible fashion sense?"

Lucas sneered at him and turned to walk away. Jack laughed.

"Hit a nerve, did I?" He called after him, in a teasing sort of tone. Lucas turned back briefly to give Jack a nasty look, but all that accomplished was to make Jack laugh even harder. And as Lucas disappeared from view, Jack couldn't believe that this guy - an overdressed bartender with no poker face who couldn't lie, couldn't turn off his doctoring instinct despite his best efforts, and who had a soft spot for children - had ever managed to get under his skin. He'd almost describe Lucas as amusing.

* * *

Nathan was falling over with exhaustion as he exited the stage. He had taken the first one home that he could get, but it had been delayed by bad weather, so the trip was extended by an extra nine hours. Nathan had wanted to speak with Bill as soon as he returned home, but he knew it would have to wait until the morning. Bill wouldn't like Nathan waking him up in the middle of the night a second time, and Nathan himself thought nothing sounded better than to collapse into his own bed at that moment.

It was for that reason that he visibly cringed when he heard someone call his name. Who was up at this hour?

He turned and saw the army doctor, Yanic Redmond. Nathan was genuinely surprised to see him.

"Why are you still here? You sent our men away weeks ago."

"I'm not here officially. But I got a message from a mutual friend of ours. Harry."

First name basis. Harry didn't let just anyone call him that. They must have been longtime friends.

Redmond continued. "Seems like he gave you a job to do."

Nathan narrowed his eyes. "How much did he tell you exactly?"

Redmond smiled. "Enough."

"And was he the same person who told you not to send me for conscription?"

"He was indeed. We made up some story about how you have high blood pressure. Which you don't, but you should learn to lighten up, or someday you will."

Nathan rolled his eyes. "My blood pressure is perfect, thank you very much."

"I'm well aware. But it's our secret."

Nathan was too tired to spar with this man. "Well, whatever reason you have for being here, I really don't care. I'm turning in. I've had a very, very long few days."

"Get used to it. Your job is far from over, Constable. And don't worry, you're rid of me. I'm off to a little town about three days southeast of here. Outbreak of smallpox there. And they're pretty isolated, being so near the mountains, so it's tough for them to get care."

Nathan looked at him, suddenly very serious. Smallpox was a big deal, even if it was three days away. "Why does the army care about that?"

"Because it's close to an army training facility, and they'd rather not see their new recruits get infected. Smallpox can put a young man in the ground just as easily as an elderly one."

Nathan nodded. "I know. Isn't it dangerous for you too, though?"

"You can only get it once, and I had it years ago."

"I had it too, as a child. I've got scars from it still, on my legs."

"Better than being dead. Well, I will leave you alone to get some rest. But I wanted to make sure you got back in one piece."

"Is it surprising that I did?"

Redmond looked deadly serious as he replied, "A little, considering what you're looking into. Tread carefully, Constable. You've got more enemies here than you realize."


	13. Chapter 13

There hadn't been a single day that Elizabeth had missed in going to visit Jack. Every day around dusk she would approach the top of the hill, and he would be waiting for her, always smiling. She teased him about his beard, which he kept under control with shears but couldn't shave off due to a lack of a razor blade. She offered to bring him one, but he would joke about how the short beard made him feel like a true lumberjack. Secretly he was worried about cutting himself, since there was no mirror up here either, and he didn't quite feel ready to go back into town yet to get one.

He had started to think about it though, going back and living like a human again. He rarely felt angry anymore, and his mind wasn't quite a whirlwind. Even his dreams were beginning to be longer and more coherent; they were less like nightmares and more like actual memories. Every day, he remembered a tiny piece of the puzzle, and he was starting to match faces and locations with their names. The fog was lifting.

The beard did drive him crazy though. As nice as it was not to have to spend ten minutes shaving every morning, he couldn't wait to get rid of it.

About a week ago, she had started bringing Little Jack with her, who Jack was always overjoyed to see. Jack would stop working in order to hold Little Jack and show him around, pointing out which rooms were which, and he let him play a bit with his tools (with the exception of the saws). And Little Jack had been equally excited to see his father; as he and Elizabeth walked up together, he would always shout "Pa!" and go running off into Jack's arms, who would scoop him up and hug him tightly. Then Elizabeth would smile at them both, and they would all walk to the cabin together. Jack's progress on it was remarkable; soon, only the roof would remain.

However, this particular evening was different. Something was wrong. Night had fallen, and Elizabeth and Little Jack hadn't showed. It was the first night in weeks that she hadn't come.

Jack was now making his way down the hill towards town. The evening was freezing and he didn't have a coat, but he didn't even notice. He was incredibly worried about them both. He walked very fast, and it was dark at that point, so he kept stumbling. But he would just get back up immediately and keep going.

Once on flat ground he broke into a run. Her house came into view and it looked dark inside. But still, he ran up the stairs and, without bothering to knock, pushed through the door. And to his immense relief, Elizabeth turned around suddenly after making a small squeaking noise, clearly startled at the door opening. She was sitting at her tiny table with Abigail.

Jack was panting, and after he and Abigail regarded each other for a moment, he felt his cheeks burning hot with embarrassment. Elizabeth was clearly fine, and he had overreacted. He must have looked absolutely insane.

"I'm - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just, you hadn't come, and I was worried - " He stammered out, trying to catch his breath.

Abigail then pushed her chair out loudly and got to her feet. She took two quick steps towards him and gathered him into a tight hug. Now it was Jack's turn to be startled.

"Jack Thornton." She breathed into his shirt. "You look absolutely horrendous. A beard does not suit you at all."

Before he could react, she added softly, "But I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life."

It then occurred to Jack that this was the first time they had seen each other since his return, even though it had been over a month. No one ever came to the plot, and he guessed it was because Elizabeth had told them not to. His earlier fears for Elizabeth and Little Jack were wearing off, and now he smiled and reached his arms around Abigail to hug her back.

"I'm sorry, I know I must not smell very good. I haven't had a bath in...well, it's been a while."

"I can tell." She responded. It made him laugh. "But I'll forgive you, just this once."

He then looked over at Elizabeth. She smiled at them as they hugged, but he did notice that she looked bothered by something. She definitely did not have her usual cheerful expression. There was something wrong.

Abigail finally released him from the hug. She looked at his face for a moment; he smiled shyly back at her.

"We missed you." She whispered. Jack didn't say anything in response, he just continued to smile.

Abigail then took a deep breath. "Well. It's time I was going. I will leave you two alone." She then turned back to Elizabeth. "Think about what I said." Her tone suddenly sounded much more serious.

She turned back to Jack one last time and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Then, she gathered up her coat and gracefully left the house, closing the door quietly behind her.

Jack turned to look at Elizabeth. She looked tired and worried.

"Are you alright?" He asked with concern.

She nodded. "Yes, fine." She didn't look fine.

"Why didn't you come? What happened?"

She sighed. "I'm sorry. I was going to right before Abigail showed up, and then we kind of lost track of time. I do have food for you, I've got it all packed and everything." She started to get up before Jack reached out to touch her.

"Don't worry about that now, it's not important. But there's something wrong, I can tell. Tell me what it is, please."

"You have enough on your mind, I don't want to -"

"Elizabeth," he interrupted her. "Please, tell me."

She blinked a few times and looked up to the top of the stairs at Little Jack's room. It nearly made Jack's heart stop.

"Is he alright? Did something happen to him?" Jack took a step towards the stairs, intending to rush up them to see his son.

"No, no, he's fine, he's fine. But..."

"But what?"

Elizabeth fell silent. Jack went to sit down next to her, and he grabbed one of her hands, which made her look into his eyes.

"But what, Elizabeth?" He repeated, a little quieter this time.

"Jack. There's been an outbreak. Of smallpox. In a town about three days ride from here, close to the mountains."

Jack felt his breath catch in his chest. Smallpox. Every man, woman, and child alive knew what that meant. It meant death.

He squeezed her hand. Every problem he had had for the past few weeks, every concern, every emotion, instantly evaporated. Absolutely nothing mattered to him at all in that moment, except for how to keep Elizabeth and Little Jack safe.

He looked up at her with a stern and serious look on his face. "You should go. You should take him, and go. Go to Calgary or Edmonton, go somewhere safe. You both need to get away from it, now."

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "It's not dangerous for me."

"Elizabeth, smallpox will kill you. And it's an awful death, I've seen it."

"I've seen it too, Jack. I had it when I was a child. And you can't get it twice, so it's no threat to me."

He stared at her, mouth agape. He never knew that.

She then looked up at him. "But you haven't had it."

"How do you know that?"

"You told me once. I forget when, I forget why we were talking about it. But I know you told me once that you've never had it."

Jack nodded. It was true, he had seen many people with smallpox (and had seen many die from it), but somehow he had managed to go his whole life without contracting it.

She took another deep breath and breathed it out audibly. "This is what Abigail and I were talking about. She said that there are a lot of children in the area of the outbreak. A lot of them have either been orphaned, or their parents are sick. And a lot of them are sick themselves. It's a town with a lot of young families. Families like ours." She said that last part with a great deal of sadness.

Elizabeth then looked deep into Jack's eyes. "They need help, Jack. There are no doctors, the town is isolated to begin with, and the doctors that are in the area have mostly been taken by the army. There's almost no care. So some people in our area have been putting together a caravan to go assist. They're asking around for people who have already had the disease, since they can't get sick, and they're asking them if they're willing to travel to help."

Jack was trying very hard not to look frightened. He could see where this was going. Elizabeth had had smallpox as a child, which meant she couldn't contract the disease, and now, strangers wanted to take her away from her home and her child. And from him.

But as soon as her words made him feel fear, he also felt shame. Of course she should go with them and help. Not only was she safe from the disease, but she was also a teacher, and was wonderful with children. She didn't know much about medical care but she was smart, she could easily learn. And he couldn't tell her not to go just because he was afraid of being without her for more than a few days.

He had improved by leaps and bounds. He almost never had nightmares anymore. He was sleeping and eating well. His emotions were in check. And he had bits and pieces of his memory back. He wasn't sure if he would ever get it completely back, but that didn't matter. He just needed to be able to function like a normal person. And lately, he felt like he was doing just that.

"I won't go though, Jack, if you ask me not to." She said very softly. "I said I will be here for you, always, if and when you need me, and I meant it. But, you have seemed a lot better, and I thought maybe it might be okay..." her voice had become very hesitant.

Jack was holding both of her hands in his and was gently caressing them with his thumbs. He leaned over and kissed them both, then rested his forehead on them for a moment. He then straightened himself up to seating again.

"They need you more."

She reached out to touch his cheek; he leaned his face into her hand and brought his hand up to cover hers.

"I won't go if you're not ready. I don't want you to think I'm abandoning you."

"Oh, Elizabeth, if anyone abandoned anyone here it was me."

"You didn't at all. You needed time to heal. You still do. Which is why I feel like I shouldn't go."

He smiled at her. She couldn't be in two places at once, and at this point, he needed to start taking some responsibility for himself. He was better. A lot better. And if people were dying and she was able to help, then she needed to go.

"You should, and you must. I'm only sorry I can't go too and help. I know how to treat it, kind of, I mean, I'm not trained, but, I have seen it many times."

"You can't. You know you can't. You could get sick, and then I wouldn't be of help to anyone, because I'd be worrying about you the whole time. Besides, someone needs to stay here with..." Her voice trailed off. Jack smiled; he knew she was talking about their son.

"I can talk to Rosemary, she might be able to take him..." Elizabeth said quietly.

Jack shook his head. "Absolutely not." Elizabeth lifted her head and gave him a tiny smile.

Jack did indeed know he couldn't go. It didn't make any sense for someone who could contract the disease to go with them. But he had lied, because he was still very afraid of being without her. He didn't feel ready. But then again, when would he ever feel ready? He couldn't stay up in the hills by himself indefinitely. At some point, he at least needed to try and rejoin civilization. And moreover, Little Jack was going to need looking after while his mother was away. It was time for Jack to start being a father, and not just for an hour or two at a time.

"So, about Little Jack..." she began to say with some trepidation. "I don't think it's a bad idea for you to take him and to leave town. Go somewhere farther away, where it's safer. You both are at risk, and the farther away you are, the better."

Jack shook his head. "No. If someone here gets sick, then I will, but we aren't leaving until you get back."

Another thought then occurred to him. "Wait, you said they don't have doctors."

"Yes, there really aren't any."

"I know of one. Lucas."

"We thought of that. He's been avoiding people ever since that news broke, he hasn't been working the saloon at all, he's just kind of locked himself in the storage area. I think he's hoping everyone will just forget all about it. But he's said he won't go. Not because he hasn't had it, he has, he told me he has, but he says he can't practice since he never graduated."

Jack stared straight ahead, his eyebrows furrowed.

Then suddenly, he stood up, the chair scraping the floor loudly as he moved. Elizabeth stared at him, waiting for him to say something, but he didn't. He stood like that for a moment, then walked with steadfast determination towards, then through, the door.

"Where are you going?" She called after him, but he didn't stop walking.

Elizabeth stood up to and followed him out the door. He was walking fast and was already twenty feet along the road. "Jack?" She called out. No response. "JACK!"

He didn't turn around. He just kept walking. And this time, he wasn't headed towards their plot. He was walking straight into the center of town.

* * *

Nathan sat in darkness at the RCMP office, his head in his hands. The past few weeks had presented him with more stress than he had had to deal with in probably five years, and he felt like he had aged a decade practically overnight. It had been a while since he had gotten a proper night's sleep. The most ironic thing about having a mind full of confusing thoughts and ideas was that the best way to make sense of it all was to rest and return to it refreshed, but the thoughts were the very thing preventing him from sleeping in the first place.

It had been good to see Harry. They hadn't seen each other in years, though they kept in touch. Nathan figured he had changed a lot, but Harry hadn't changed at all. He was still the same tough-as-nails old curmudgeon he had always been. Nathan had missed him, though he knew their visits presented a lot of mixed emotions on both sides these days. Because Harry and he at one point had been family.

'_Not anymore._' Nathan thought to himself.

Nathan's attention was brought back to the room by hearing the slightest creak in the floor. He turned his head slightly and, despite the lack of light, could see the faintest hint of blonde hair emerging from the shadows.

"Hello, Bill."

"Hello, Nathan. Glad to see you back."

The two men regarded each other for a moment. Nathan could see that Bill didn't look much better than he did; he also looked tired and overwhelmed.

"You don't look like you've been sleeping much." Bill said to him.

"I could say the same for you." Nathan retorted.

Bill smiled slightly. "Indeed. So, let's chat about why we're both sleep deprived." He sat down in a chair not far from where Nathan sat.

Nathan proceeded to tell Bill about his visit to Calgary. He told him about Harry, and what Harry had said about there being connections between the army and the RCMP. He told him about the suspected embezzlement and mismanagement of production in small towns. And he told him about how Harry had kept him out of the army specifically because Harry knew this would probably happen to them eventually.

After he had finished, there was a period of silence. Bill looked away from Nathan, lost in thought.

"You don't look surprised." Nathan said. And it was true; as he described everything to Bill, Bill hadn't looked surprised at all. Disappointed, upset, bothered, and disgusted, but not surprised.

"That's because I'm not surprised." Bill said quietly. "All you've done is confirmed what I found too."

"Which is what?"

Bill looked up.

"While you've been away, I've been visiting our friends quite a bit. Or rather, visiting their offices. And I gotta tell you, the accounts ledgers that they have are interesting reads. Real page-turners."

Nathan snorted. "I'll bet they are."

"You do have to read between the lines a lot. I'll give them this, they're not fools. They're good at trying to make it look like money always went to the right hands. But dig a little deeper and you'll start to see some other things too."

"Such as?"

"Such as bribery. And not just bribery between army and RCMP officials in order to have the RCMP look the other way, but bribery involving other organizations."

Bill leaned in a little closer to Nathan.

"Did your friend Harry ever talk to you about the new workers? The people who replaced our men?"

"No, he never mentioned them."

"I had thought it incredibly strange when they first showed up. They're all young and healthy, and yet the army didn't seem to want them. And it took quite a few telegrams and calling in more than a few favors, but I had some friends look into where they came from exactly. And now I think I get why the army doesn't want them."

"Why not?"

"Because they're convicts. Some of them of very violent crimes. And that will disqualify you from service for sure."

Nathan couldn't stop his mouth from dropping open. "They were in prison?"

Bill nodded. "Most of them still should be. But certain officials at the RCMP were paid off by our dear army friends, and they were given early parole. Ridiculously early parole. And that's another thing I found in their ledgers: payroll. These men, they're not paying them practically anything. Which I'm guessing the men don't have a lot of issue with, because at least they got out of prison."

Nathan glowered. "So basically, certain people in the army are embezzling from wartime production, and it's the RCMP's job to investigate it, but members of the RCMP are bribed in exchange for looking the other way. Labor costs are cut way down by the RCMP releasing criminals from jail and using them as practically slave labor, and the RCMP is paid off for that too."

Now it was Nathan's turn to be lost in thought. It was disgusting and horrifying. The RCMP, the organization that he loved, was a hotbed of corruption. And it sounded like they had proof.

"There's a little more that I think you'll find interesting."

Nathan looked up incredulously. How could there possibly be more?

"Sawmills, ironworks, mining towns, and factories that have been converted into munitions manufacturers, those are the major production sources that seem to be ripe for these takeovers. But there are others too. Lumber operations, for example."

"Well, there's a lot of that in this area."

"There certainly is. Nathan, have you ever heard of a place called 'Silverton'?"

* * *

It had been at least three weeks since anyone in town had seen Jack, so naturally they stopped and gawked when they saw him march past. He was walking with great intent - which they thought was odd, considering that the few people who had seen him in that time period reported him looking weak, tired, and usually distraught. Now, he looked completely like the Jack Thornton of two years ago: confident, straight backed, and walking fast and with purpose. All that was missing was the red serge, and it would have been like nothing had ever happened. Well, apart from the facial hair. Handsome though he was, Jack was not able to pull off having a full beard. It made him look ten years older and like a hobo.

Jack's ultimate destination quickly became apparent. He burst through the door of the saloon, startling all of the patrons. No one said anything to him, they were too shocked to speak. That was fine by him; he had only come here to see one person.

He took a quick look around the room, but knew that his target wasn't here. Without even bothering to close the main door, he quickly walked towards the back of the saloon. He reached out, turned the door handle, and walked into the storage area. And sure enough, there was Lucas, trying (and failing) to lift a heavy case of bottled beer onto a shelf, except that Jack had made so much noise coming into the storage room that Lucas jumped and abruptly turned around. This in turn caused the case of bottles to drop to the floor and smash. The floor was then covered in a flood of suds, brown liquid, and broken glass.

Jack looked down at his shoes, which had been splashed by the liquid. When the last rolling bottle had clanked to a stop, he looked up at Lucas.

"Nice going." He deadpanned.

Lucas was staring at him in shock. "What are you doing here?" He demanded.

Jack didn't respond. He just stared at Lucas for another second, then took one or two large steps towards him and abruptly punched him square across his jaw.

As Lucas fell into the shelving unit he was standing in front of, Jack shook his hand. Lucas had a harder skull than he had expected.

"You had that coming." Jack said.

Lucas reached up to rub his jaw. He had been taken completely off guard, both by Jack's arrival and his blow. But then just as quickly as Jack had arrived, Lucas looked up at him from the floor where he had fallen, narrowed his eyes, and yelled as he lunged forward, grabbing Jack around the waist and tackling him backwards.

What ensued was probably the most entertaining bar fight ever witnessed in Hope Valley. Under normal circumstances Lucas would have been no match for Jack, but Jack was thinner than normal and slightly out of practice, so Lucas managed to land a few blows here and there. Jack punched him again across the jaw and he fell into a table; Lucas responded by punching Jack in the nose, and Jack crashed back into a chair and knocked it over.

Jack also took this opportunity to taunt Lucas. "You know, you really need to exercise more. Your stomach is feeling a little soft there, Lucas."

Lucas swung a fist at him. "I can't believe people called you good-looking. Your son is lucky he takes after his mother."

Jack narrowed his eyes and growled; he thought he was past the point where Lucas could insult him, but mentioning Little Jack was still his weak spot.

"And your patients are lucky you dropped out of school. I think I'd rather be sick that deal with a doctor who dresses like you."

"STOP INSULTING MY CLOTHES!" Lucas screamed with rage.

Furniture was soon scattered all over the saloon and the two men were rolling around on the floor, both of them yelling. At one point they actually fell together behind the bar, knocking down and breaking Lucas's most expensive bottles of whiskey, which he didn't notice at all. And all the while, the townspeople who had been in the bar cheered them on.

This continued for several minutes, until Lucas again lunged at Jack and they crashed through one of the windows, landing with a thud first on the saloon's little porch, then to the dusty ground. The sound of broken glass was enough to get the attention of Nathan and Bill, who had still been sitting together in the RCMP office, and they rushed out to try to separate Lucas and Jack.

But, they weren't really needed, as both men were pretty much spent by that point. They were both completely out of breath, and their faces were bloodied and bruised. They were also both hurt - Jack was weakened by a meager diet, little sleep, and excess work, and Lucas had never been much of a fighter, so they could both feel the effects of every blow that the other had landed. They both made small, pathetic noises as they reached for and rubbed their backs, shoulders, and ribs, and wiped the mixture of sweat, blood, and dust from the street out of their eyes. Neither could get up; they just remained lying on their backs in the street, next to each other, groaning.

"What the hell is going on?" Bill demanded.

Lucas tried to get up but then fell back down, clutching at his right side. He looked over at Jack and was prepared to start shouting at him, but he was dismayed to hear Jack start laughing.

Bill, Lucas, and Nathan stared at Jack as his laughter deepened from a slight chuckle to a deep, from-the-belly, doubled over kind of hysterical laughter. They thought he may have gone mad again, the same way he had when he first arrived back in town. But this wasn't the same kind of maniacal laughter that he had had when he first arrived. This was definitely more than a little strange, but he didn't seem out of his mind. He just seemed like he was having the time of his life.

"Jack?" Bill asked. Jack looked at him and tried to stop laughing, but then collapsed into it again. He fell to his back on the ground, tears coming out of his eyes, he was laughing so hard.

"He is crazy. Completely insane." Lucas said. Nathan reached down and pulled him up to his feet; Lucas groaned and clutched his right side again. He knew that by morning it would be a lot worse.

"He just came bursting into the saloon and hit me out of nowhere!" Lucas exclaimed. Bill and Nathan didn't really know what to do or how to react. They just kept looking back and forth between Lucas and Jack.

It took a few moments for Jack to regain some semblance of composure. "Not bad, Lucas. Not bad at all. You're a better fighter than I gave you credit for." He said.

Lucas sneered down at him. "Wonderful to meet with your approval." He said back rudely.

Jack sat up, putting his feet flat and propping his arms on his knees. He looked at Lucas with amusement on his face, still trying to catch his breath.

Bill tried to steer Lucas away from Jack, and Lucas was at first compliant. The two started to walk in the direction of the saloon, where people were still gawking out the door and out the broken windowpane. Nathan walked over to Jack and reached a hand down, which Jack took, and he hauled him to his feet. Jack dusted himself off.

"You're both going to feel this tomorrow." Bill said to Lucas. Jack was still in earshot though.

"It's alright, Lucas knows how to deal with most injuries. And hey, Lucas, know what else you know how to deal with?" He called out.

Lucas briefly glanced back at him, a nasty look on his face, but he didn't stop walking.

"Smallpox!"

That one in fact did make him freeze in place. He again glanced back, his expression even colder.

"You know all about it, don't you? How to treat it, how to stop it from spreading, how to lessen the suffering. And, how to stop the dying, or at least, slow it down."

Jack then slowly walked until he was inches away from Lucas. Bill and Nathan both shuffled around nervously, waiting for the fight to restart.

Lucas stared back into Jack's eyes.

"Why'd you drop out, Lucas?" Jack asked, half mockingly, half seriously. "There must have been a reason."

"No, there isn't. I guess I'm just a failure." Lucas responded through clenched teeth, refusing to back down from Jack, who was in his face.

Jack smiled. "I don't believe you. You don't make it through four years only to quit with a month to go. Something happened, didn't it?"

Before Lucas could respond, Jack also said, "You know, just a little while back I thought I was a failure too. So I guess we're both in the same boat, aren't we?"

"I'm nothing like you." Lucas said.

"Yes you are. You're a lot like me. More than either of us would care to admit. And I thought I was a failure too, because I thought I was broken. I thought I'd stay broken forever."

Lucas didn't respond, but he didn't turn away either.

Jack continued, "But you know what Lucas? I just got into a ten minute fight with you, and I'm pretty sure I won. I haven't been in a fight in years. So I guess I can't be that broken, can I?"

Lucas was infuriated by his remark, and tried to take another swing at Jack, but Jack adeptly dodged his fist. He grinned at him tauntingly, and Lucas tried to lunge for him once more, but Bill stopped him. Nathan had moved into position to grab Jack around the waist from behind, so that he wouldn't lunge for Lucas either.

Jack then looked at Lucas. "You're not broken either, Lucas. Whatever happened, whatever you did or didn't do, whatever mistakes you made, it's over. And those people, they need you now. They need all the help they can get. And you know how to help them, and what's more, you want to help them. I know you do. You tried to help me, and you despise me. Helping people, it's who you are."

Lucas shook free of Bill's grasp. He didn't respond. He still looked infuriated with Jack, but there was something else in his eyes now. He looked frightened and unsure of himself, like he didn't quite trust himself, and Jack recognized that look. It was how he had felt for over a month. Lucas was dealing with his own trauma, Jack could see it clearly. He had nothing but sympathy, but just as Elizabeth had very gently tried to give him tough love, he knew Lucas needed someone to tell him that he couldn't run away forever.

"So pull yourself together, Lucas. If I can do it, you can too."

Lucas finally had heard enough and stormed off. He wasn't returning to the saloon, he was just walking into the darkness of the night. And Jack watched him with a deeply satisfied look on his face. He smiled to himself as he reflected on the idea that, perhaps in another time, or in another life, he and Lucas could have been friends.

After all, there was no greater act of friendship for a man than to beat his friend to a pulp while simultaneously teaching him a lesson.


	14. Chapter 14

_Shoutout to valleylil, for her comments related to the history of the smallpox vaccine. I had always intended to include a discussion of it, but she beat me to it. Thanks valleylil for keeping me honest!_

* * *

The caravan was almost completely packed and ready to go. In total twenty eight people were going to assist with the outbreak. The entire town had put together a collection of any and all materials that they deemed could be even slightly useful: blankets, clothes, rags, canned goods, firewood, and even toys for children and books for adults. They also cleaned out Faith's nursing station with as many medical supplies as she could spare. She originally wanted to come, but she was talked out of it by townspeople who wanted there to still be some medical help in Hope Valley.

Elizabeth was dressed in travelling clothes, including her sturdiest boots and her warmest coat. She watched with pride as Jack worked hard to load up the caravan, sharing the work with Nathan and any other able-bodied man who could help. He hadn't been back to the plot since she told him she was going, which was four days ago. Instead, he was completely focused on what needed to be done to prepare the caravan. She knew he still wasn't completely recovered from his ordeal, he still had a long way to go, but this seemed to have been a good distraction for him. And as such, he seemed totally like his old self again: confident, organized, professional, and a natural leader.

And, he had stayed home with her and Little Jack, which had been heavenly. In the evenings he would help her with dinner, then he would play with Little Jack. They would put Little Jack to bed, and then the two of them would stay up, talking in low voices about whatever was on their minds. Most nights they would just cuddle and fall asleep in each others arms, although there was one night where they...well, they acted like man and wife again, so to speak. And Jack hadn't had a single nightmare. He slept as peacefully as he ever had before his disappearance.

The townspeople for their part had mostly left him alone and didn't ask too many questions about what he was going through. A few had made remarks about how they were happy he was back and they complimented him on his appearance, which, he was indeed looking quite respectable. A bath, a shave, and a haircut went far, and he had color back in his cheeks and he wasn't looking as skeletally thin as he had been before.

Jack and Nathan stood together, talking as they looked over the wagons. There wasn't much left to do, and people were beginning to say their goodbyes to their loved ones as they prepared to leave.

Jack turned around and looked at Elizabeth, who smiled at him. He smiled back. Nathan also smiled at her, and then left the two of them alone. Jack started to walk slowly towards her.

However, before he could get there, she felt a tiny body grab a hold of her legs.

"Mama." Little Jack said as he clutched her. She crouched down so that she could be eye to eye with him.

"Now listen, Jack. Listen very carefully. Are you listening to mama?" She asked him. He nodded.

"Mama has to go away for a little while. She has to go somewhere to take care of some very sick people. But I will be back, I promise, I'll be back so soon you won't even know I'm gone. And in the meantime, you're going to stay here with Pa, and you and he are going to have a lot of fun together."

Jack had reached her side by now and was smiling down at both of them. He could hear Elizabeth's voice starting to crack.

"So you have to promise me that you'll be a really good boy, okay? You have to do everything Pa says."

Little Jack then looked up at Big Jack and smiled. Only a couple of his baby teeth had grown in and Big Jack thought he couldn't possibly have looked any cuter.

"Do you promise me you'll be good, and listen to Pa? And do everything he says?" She asked him, in her best 'serious mother' voice. Little Jack was oblivious, but Big Jack could hear how much she was struggling with this.

"We're gonna be fine, aren't we buddy? It's been fun hasn't it, having Pa around for the past few days, hasn't it?" Big Jack said as he knelt down next to them both, gently touching Little Jack's hair. And it was true, Little Jack had barely let go of Big Jack since he had come back to the house. Every night he had fallen asleep on his shoulder, listening to his father's still horribly tone deaf humming. The lack of musicality didn't seem to bother Little Jack much though.

Little Jack then released Elizabeth and jumped onto his father, who squeezed him tightly and made a funny little "rawr" noise, as if he were pretending to be a bear. Jack then looked up and locked eyes with Elizabeth.

Meanwhile, Rosemary was standing not too far away, and she had seen this entire conversation transpire. Knowing that the hour was nearly upon them, she walked over to Jack and Elizabeth. Little Jack smiled and laughed when he saw her, as she was a familiar face to him.

"Come here, Little Jack. Let's you and me go for a bit of a walk." Rosemary said cheerfully. She took Little Jack by the hand and led him away; Elizabeth smiled at her in gratitude, and she smiled back and nodded in acknowledgement.

Then, it was just Jack and Elizabeth.

Jack tried to look upbeat but he knew he wasn't doing a very good job. They had both been so busy for the past few days that they hadn't had much time to think about the fact that she was leaving and would be gone for at least a few weeks. It would be their first time truly apart since he returned.

"Feels strange, me leaving, and you staying, doesn't it?" She said quietly.

Jack didn't quite know what to say. "I guess it's my turn, to be staying here while you go."

He then reached out and took her hands in his. "But you do know, I never left because I wanted to. I left because I had to. You know that, don't you?"

She nodded. "Yes, I know. I'm not leaving because I want to either."

He then kissed her on the forehead and pulled her into a tight hug. She clung to him equally tightly. They were both trying not to cry.

Without releasing her from the hug, he whispered, "Please be safe. Please take care of yourself."

"I will. I'll be fine. No danger to me, remember?"

Jack smiled a bit, but he was all too aware that the last time they had said goodbye to each other, he had made a similar remark. It was right before the recruit training trip, where he had made some flippant remark about how the worst case scenario on that trip was that he'd lose his voice. And she wound up thinking that he'd lost his life.

"Just be careful."

"Elizabeth! Time to go!" Someone called.

They released each other from the hug and looked deep into each other's eyes, then pulled each other close and kissed. It was a deep, passionate kiss, one that was reminiscent of all the kisses they had exchanged right before separating. But their roles were reversed this time, and Jack knew how difficult it was going to be to stay in town and watch her leave. He knew he wouldn't be able to stop worrying until she was back home, safe and sound. And he put all of that emotion into his kiss. As he kissed her, he prayed. '_Please come back to me._'

Finally, they reluctantly pulled away from each other. One last peck on the lips, and he took her hand firmly in his and led her to the wagon. He then lifted her up and placed her in it. She kept holding his hand and looking down at him, tears now flowing down her cheeks. His eyes weren't dry either but he tried to smile reassuringly.

In the distance, they both heard a shout, and then a crack of some reins. The caravan started to move. Elizabeth felt her wagon lurch forward. Jack continued to hold her hand and he walked behind her wagon for a bit, never breaking eye contact. She mouthed the words 'I love you' to him, and he did to her as well. Then as they approached the edge of town, he kissed her hand one last time, and released it as gently as he could.

They didn't take their eyes off of each other until the wagon rounded the corner, passed by the graveyard, and finally disappeared out of sight.

* * *

Night had fallen. It was a cloudy night, and there was an electricity in the air that suggested the possibility of snow. November was here, and autumn was nearly over; winter was banging on the door. Most of the leaves were off of the trees. The wind whistled and howled through the bare branches, which made them creak and moan. It made Hope Valley seem almost haunted.

Jack was seated at Elizabeth's table, staring at his hands. He had kept as busy as possible following her departure: he carried Little Jack up to see the cabin and had run around playing with him. Then, he brought him back home, gave him dinner (Elizabeth had failed to mention his deep hatred of carrots), read him a story, then kissed him goodnight, told him he loved him, and put him in bed. Little Jack fell asleep easily. Big Jack would not be so lucky.

Despite his fatigue and the late hour, Jack was in no hurry to lie down. He knew that as soon as he did, Elizabeth's absence would hit him hard. They had been apart before, but he had never been the one who stayed behind. He knew he was getting a taste of his own medicine, so he didn't think he had any right to be upset about it. That didn't make it any easier though. And this wasn't even getting into the nightmares.

Truth be told, he hadn't had one in a long time. He still had vivid dreams, but he wouldn't describe them as nightmares exactly. They were strong, clear visions of the past. He saw the same things every night: rain. Lots of rain. He heard voices shouting. He heard his own voice shouting. He was worried about something. Someone was missing, and they needed to organize a search party to go find him. He heard himself say the word "Joshua." And he saw a face that he couldn't quite make out, but who looked a lot like a younger version of himself. They were the same height, they had the same light brown hair color, the same square jaw. The only differences were the approximately five-to-ten year age gap, and the fact that this face had blue eyes, as opposed to Jack's hazel-green ones.

Again, these weren't nightmares. But Jack had also known before that if the nightmares ever did return, Elizabeth was a ten minute walk away. Now, he wouldn't see her for weeks. He didn't have anyone to talk to if he needed someone, with the possible exception of Bill. And he was completely responsible for his son. The prospect of the nightmares returning combined with the loneliness and pressure meant he didn't think he'd be sleeping much until Elizabeth came home.

For that reason, he was almost happy when he heard a knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows; it was almost midnight, who could possibly be up at that hour? But again, the idea of seeing someone even for a moment gave him a feeling of immense relief.

He stood up and opened the door. His mouth dropped open. It was Lucas.

Jack didn't say anything at first, nor did Lucas. They just stared at each other for a minute. Then, Jack opened the door slightly wider, inviting Lucas in. He heard Lucas say "thank you" very quietly as he walked past Jack into the house. Jack closed the door behind him.

Lucas walked to the center of the room. Jack watched him as he shuffled around, looking uncomfortable. Jack then realized why he had come; he had come to apologize for not going with the caravan, despite everyone (including Jack) telling him he should.

But Jack wasn't going to let him off the hook.

"I'm disappointed in you, Lucas." Jack said quietly. Lucas looked up at him with surprise.

Jack took a deep breath and sighed it out. "I really thought you'd go with them."

Lucas's confusion melted away and he smiled at him. It was a proud smile. Lucas knew something that Jack didn't.

"I am going with them."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Uh, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but, they left hours ago."

"I'm well aware. I stayed behind to do some last minute research and gather up some more supplies. But don't worry, I'm leaving first light, and one man travelling alone will catch up to them in no time."

One corner of Jack's mouth turned upwards. Lucas matched his expression.

"Alright then. Do you know where you're going? Do you have everything you need?"

"I do."

Silence fell over the room. Lucas looked down for a moment. He then took a deep breath.

"But I wanted to tell you something before I left."

"So tell me."

Lucas looked up at him. "I want you to know why I left school. Because you were right. Something did happen. And I think at this point you deserve to hear the truth. So you'll at least understand why this isn't easy for me."

Jack didn't say anything. He just gave Lucas his complete undivided attention.

Lucas began by saying, "I was always the perfect student. I graduated from secondary school a year early. I went to university and got the highest honors. I received two degrees. I had my choice of medical schools. My father wanted me to move to the US and go to Harvard, but I finally picked a school that was close to home, in Edmonton."

Lucas was rubbing his hands together nervously. Jack didn't move, he just kept watching him, and listening.

His voice took on a tone of self-loathing as he continued, "Because I had always been so smart, and so perfect, and because my teachers always treated me like I was incapable of making a mistake, I started to believe it. I believed that I couldn't make a mistake. And any doctor will tell you, that's the worst possible attitude you can have. An arrogant doctor is a doctor who gets people killed."

"It's the same for an RCMP Constable. You can't let yourself ever get complacent." Jack replied.

Lucas nodded. "I'm sure."

Lucas took a very deep breath, sighed it out, then took another. Jack could tell that the story was getting hard to tell.

"One day, I was out with friends. We were celebrating, since we were almost done with school, we only had a few weeks to go. One of my friends had a bit too much to drink, and he insisted on getting on his horse to ride home. I was pretty drunk too and I didn't stop him. I should have. I should have known better, there was no excuse."

Lucas then paused for a moment.

"Go on," Jack said gently.

"He fell. He was too rough with the horse, it reared, and he fell. And he landed very badly on the ground, landing on what I thought was his shoulder. I thought he was bruised, but I didn't think he had any other injuries. And I was so drunk that I actually laughed at him and called him clumsy. I remember pulling him to his feet and kind of slapping him around a bit, making fun of him. And then I pushed him, and he fell over backwards."

Lucas then stopped. He didn't say any more. The room was dark, but Jack could see Lucas's bottom lip trembling slightly.

When it was clear that Lucas wasn't going to say anything else, Jack spoke up. "I don't understand. You pushed him? And then what happened?"

Lucas looked up. The room was lit by the glow of the woodstove, and Jack could see his eyes shimmering with tears.

"He didn't move after that. He never moved again."

Lucas let out a small sob. Jack walked closer to Lucas and put his hands on his shoulders.

"I still don't understand, Lucas."

Lucas was crying. He looked up at the ceiling, then into Jack's eyes.

"The second he fell off of his horse, I should have yelled at him to stay on the ground, and to not move. Whenever something like that happens, where there is even a chance of an injury to the spinal cord, people need to be immobilized. They need to stay still. They need to not be allowed to move their head or their neck. They need to be checked to see if anything is damaged or out of alignment. If they do move, you risk severing the spinal cord."

He sobbed again. "And I did everything wrong. I moved him. I pushed him. I thought I was playing around. I was the great scion, the perfect medical student, it never occurred to me that I could do any damage to anyone. But I made the injury worse. He hadn't landed on his shoulder, he had landed on his neck, but he wasn't beyond hope at that point. But as soon as I pushed him and he fell over backwards, that was it. It was irreparable. Because of me, he will never walk again. Everything below his waist is paralyzed."

Now Jack understood. Lucas blamed himself for his friend's injury.

"I burned all of my books. I literally built a fire and tossed them all into it. And as I watched them burn, I kept repeating the Hippocratic Oath in my head over and over again...'_Do no harm. Do no harm._' I never went to another class. I didn't take any of my final exams. I withdrew from the school. And I couldn't get out of Edmonton fast enough. I couldn't look anyone in the eye. I haven't seen my parents or any of my friends since."

"It was an accident, Lucas. A terrible accident." Jack said quietly.

"A preventable accident. A stupid accident." Lucas responded with anger. Not anger with Jack, anger with himself.

Jack looked at him, and was suddenly reminded of something in his own past.

"You know, I once went on a post with the RCMP to a very dangerous area. An area with a lot of crime. If I'm being honest, a part of me didn't think I'd come back from it. I wrote Elizabeth a letter before I left and gave it to Bill, telling him to give it to her if I was killed. And she did get that letter, not after that trip, but after the one that came next. That's the one where people thought I died." He laughed a bit. "You'd like what I wrote. I told her to try to find love again. Sorry for ruining your prospects."

Lucas laughed a bit through his tears, understanding the joke. But he didn't see where Jack was going with this.

He continued, "I did come back from that posting, but I remember there was a young man, a boy really, who was really afraid. I tried to look out for him. I tried to put him in the safest place I could. But that's ultimately what got him killed, because the place I thought was the safest turned out to be the most dangerous. I was with him when he died. I've never forgotten him."

"So I know how you feel. I know how it feels to feel like you're responsible for something horrible happening to someone else."

Jack paused. "But, I also know that there isn't anything you can do to change it. The best thing you can do is exactly what you are doing right now: try to do some good. You try to move on with the knowledge that one mistake doesn't negate everything you've ever done or accomplished, or will accomplish in the future. It doesn't ruin you for the rest of your life."

He looked Lucas in the eye. "I believe in redemption, Lucas. I believe people can come back from their mistakes. And I believe that you are doing the right thing, and that you're going to help a lot of people. I only wish I could go with you."

Lucas took a deep breath, trying to get his emotions under control. "Thank you, Jack."

Jack smiled at him. "Do you want to stay here tonight? I can get you up early tomorrow."

Lucas shook his head. "No, I have my things packed back at the saloon. I'll leave from there."

Lucas turned towards the door, but almost immediately turned back towards Jack. They regarded each other, and Lucas then reached out his hand. Jack looked at it, smiled, and shook it.

Lucas smiled back, then turned, for real this time, to the door.

"Please keep an eye on her for me." Jack said quietly as he opened it.

Lucas looked back at him over his shoulder. He knew exactly what Jack meant. "I will."

Lucas crossed the threshold, but then paused yet again. "Oh, and one more thing." He said, confidence returning to his voice.

"What?"

"Why aren't you vaccinated?"

Jack looked up and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What?"

"You could have gone with Elizabeth if you were vaccinated. Didn't the RCMP make you get it for smallpox? We've had the vaccine for years."

"I've heard talk here and there about vaccination, but I guess I've just escaped their attention. I've lived in the country my whole life. Big time efforts really don't make it out here very often. We're just not their priority."

"Something I intend to remedy as soon as I'm back." Lucas grumbled. "This whole thing could have been prevented if the government took better care of people in remote areas. It's funny, I've lived in cities my whole life -"

"I can tell, based on your clothes." Jack interrupted.

Lucas sneered at him. "You and I are going to have a talk on that subject when I get back. I need to teach you a few things. There's more to life than red serge and flannel."

"But anyway, what I was saying was, I've lived in cities my whole life, and I remember reading about this sort of thing, health problems existing in the country that at this point are rare, if not unheard of, in more populous areas. But I didn't really realize how bad it was until I came here. And you're right, country people just aren't high priority."

He shook his head. "Again, I fully intend to remedy that going forward. I'll do it personally if that's what it takes. I won't let this kind of thing happen in my town."

Jack smiled to hear Lucas refer to Hope Valley as 'his' town. "I have no doubt." He replied.


	15. Chapter 15

"It's okay, buddy, it's okay!"

Jack couldn't believe Little Jack had any voice left. If he screamed like this he'd be hoarse in five minutes. But no, Little Jack had managed to cry on and off for days now, screaming at the top of his lungs and alternating between throwing things (Jack had long figured out he needed to take everything breakable and put it on a high shelf) and clinging to his father for dear life. At the moment, he was doing the latter.

Jack had him wrapped in a hug and was trying to pace around the room with him. Little Jack wasn't struggling, he wanted comfort, but Jack didn't think he was giving him any. He was doing his best, but he was exhausted; it had been like this for nearly a week. And unfortunately, he didn't think that was going to change any time soon. He knew exactly what was the matter, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"I know, buddy...you miss Mommy. You miss Mommy." He repeated that again and again, speaking in a soft voice, rubbing his hand up and down Little Jack's tiny back. Little Jack just responded by crying louder, particularly once he heard the word "Mommy," which he understood all too well.

It had been a month since the caravan had left. They arrived at the site of the outbreak safely; Jack had received a very short letter from Elizabeth about it early on. She detailed how the outbreak was as bad as they had expected. More than twenty people had already died, and there were new cases seemingly every day. People came in from the surrounding rural areas to the town (if it could be called that) seeking help. Men, women, children, the very young and the very old, it wasn't sparing anyone. And the strain of it was bad too; the majority who had it were dead within hours, and those lucky enough to survive would be heavily scarred.

She had also written about how Lucas had caught up to them after two days of travel, and he was now extraordinarily busy with both treating the sick and trying to get vaccines from nearby cities to prevent the disease from spreading any further. Jack couldn't help but smile when he read about how Lucas had quickly become the hero of the town; everyone called him "Doctor," which he was too distracted to worry about correcting, and he knew exactly what to do in all situations. This had been right when they arrived so he had his work cut out for him, but Jack had every confidence in his abilities.

And sadly, that had been about it for the letter, as she didn't have the time to write a more detailed one. There was one line about how the weather had been bad; they were at higher elevation and had received a lot of snow, and it was very cold and she missed their warm little house, but that she knew she would be home soon. She closed it saying she loved them both and that she hoped they were well. He hadn't heard from her since.

The weather had turned bitterly cold in the valley as well. It was now the end of November and the long winter was setting in. It had already snowed three times, once heavily. Jack had done his best to keep busy; the woodpile was absurdly full, there was no risk of running out of wood for about two years, and yet he kept chopping it, since the exercise helped to calm his mind. He had fixed everything in Elizabeth's house that was even remotely broken (and a few things that weren't broken at all). He also kept going to the cabin. He had finished the construction and put the roof on, so now it was an actual building, and he was now working on the interior. Little Jack went with him wherever he went. At first it had been fun, just father and son, they had played and Jack put him on his horse and took him for rides, but Little Jack quickly figured out that Mommy wasn't home, and he started throwing a lot more tantrums. Jack was completely powerless in those situations, and they were getting more frequent. Though the good thing about that, if there was a good thing, was that there was no chance Jack would have any nightmares. He didn't sleep for more than three hours at a time before Little Jack woke him up again, and when he did sleep, he was so tired that he didn't even dream.

It wasn't late, but the days were so short at that point that it had been dark for an hour. And the darkness, the cold weather, and the fact that so many people were away meant Jack never expected any visitors. So it came as a great shock when he heard a knock on the door.

He sighed and went to open it, still holding Little Jack, who continued to scream. On his porch stood Bill and Nathan.

"I'm a little busy here, you two!" He said. Or rather, he shouted, so they could hear him over the sound of Little Jack.

"We can tell!" Bill yelled back.

"What do you need?" Jack yelled.

"Unfortunately it's a little complicated, any chance you could put him down for a second?" yelled Bill.

Jack snorted. "You do not want to see what happens when I do that." The last time he tried to put Little Jack down during one of these scenes, Little Jack had broken three of Elizabeth's vases.

Nathan then stepped forward. "Give him to me," he said in a voice that was barely audible over the screaming. "You two go outside and talk." He then reached out his arms, indicating that Jack should hand him Little Jack.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure?" he yelled. "You might regret this."

"I'll be fine. Go outside."

Jack was surprised at this, as he didn't consider Nathan to be much of a nurturer, but he handed Little Jack off all the same. Little Jack didn't stop screaming, but he also didn't struggle. He knew Nathan, as Nathan had visited sometimes before Jack's return. Nathan enveloped him in a hug and starting making "shh" noises.

Grateful to get even a small break, Jack nodded at Bill and they both exited the house, closing the door behind them. Jack shivered and hugged his sweater in closer; he should have grabbed a coat before going outside. The night was freezing, although at least it was clear without any wind.

"What's up, Bill?" He then could hear that Little Jack had stopped screaming. "That won't last," he said, pointing at the house, "so I suggest you make this quick."

Bill nodded. "Yes, well, remind yourself that you said that once I begin, because this is going to sound like a lot all at once." He said.

"I can take it." Jack responded.

"Okay, so, first things first. As you know, our army 'friends' have been here for a number of weeks now, working the mill, and our men left."

"I am aware of that, yes." Jack didn't venture into town too much and hadn't really interacted with any of the new workers, or anyone else for that matter, but he knew the basics of what was happening.

"Well, Nathan and I thought it was odd from the very beginning. There were so many things about the whole situation that didn't add up. The new workers were all young and healthy, and yet the army preferred our middle aged fathers. They cited production goals as the problem, and yet production has fallen since they started."

"I didn't know about production falling, but it makes sense. And I remember thinking the new workers did look a little young to be army rejects."

"Yes. And Nathan and I have been doing some digging into this for weeks now, reading their ledgers, opening their letters, intercepting telegrams, things like that."

"Things like that?" Jack questioned. "Do you have a warrant for any of that?"

"Since when do you worry about warrants?"

"I mean, never, but you are technically supposed to get one..."

"They slow you down and interfere with the process. Everyone knows that."

Jack nodded in mock agreement; they were getting off topic. "Okay okay, we'll work that out later, keep going."

"Right. So, it took us a while, but we've got solid proof at this point."

"Solid proof of what?"

"Embezzlement. They've done this before - taken over a country down's production, replace the workforce, sell the little bit that the new workforce actually does produce, but they launder the money. And then they take a cut of it off the top."

"Launder the money? Launder it through whom, exactly? Do you know?"

Bill took a deep breath. "Yes, we do."

There was a pause. "Bill, he's going to start screaming again in about sixty seconds, so..."

"The RCMP. They're laundering through the RCMP."

Jack couldn't contain his gasp. "Say that again?"

Bill took another deep breath. "The RCMP knew about it too. Think about it, Jack - it's the RCMP's job to investigate any kind of embezzlement that happens. The war department is too busy to do it themselves so they rely on law enforcement. And the larger branches of the RCMP are too big to be bought off. But in smaller areas like ours, there's only one, maybe two Constables, and it's not that hard to bribe one or two men."

"Do you have proof of this? That they're bribing the RCMP to look the other way?"

Bill looked at the ground. He suddenly looked very uncomfortable.

"Bill -"

"Yes. Yes we do have proof. Not here, obviously, though I have a feeling that they would have tried it on Nathan eventually, not that he would have gone along with it. But there's proof of it in towns nearby."

Bill then looked Jack dead in the eye.

"Jack, we have proof that the Silverton office was one of those offices. One of the ones they bought off. And that the lumber company you were working for before you...well, before, was one of the companies that had been taken over."

Jack went silent. He just stared at Bill, his face blank.

"Jack, how well did you know the men you worked with there?"

"I never spoke to any of them. I didn't speak to anyone."

"Well, you weren't the only one there who shouldn't have been there. A few of your fellow workers were dealing with chronic physical or mental illness and should have been in hospitals. *You* should have been in a hospital. There was one worker who was a war veteran who should have been receiving veteran's pay from the government, he apparently had lost a leg in the war..."

"It wasn't a leg. It was an arm. I remember him." Jack said quietly.

Bill nodded. He couldn't tell how Jack was taking this news. This was the kind of thing that, when Jack had first returned, he would have been very hesitant to tell him, for fear of how he would react. So far Jack appeared to be relatively calm, which came as a relief to Bill.

"And the rest of the workers, they were either criminals who had been released from prison far too early, also thanks to the RCMP, or some of them were underage. We have reason to suspect that a couple of them were no older than thirteen, and children that age doing work like that is illegal."

"So basically you're telling me that we were all exploited workers. The company was corrupt, and they were in league with the local RCMP office, who didn't care, because they were paid off. From what I remember of those men, I can believe it. And now the same thing is happening here, although Nathan isn't yet involved, but they would have tried to bribe him if he started asking questions."

"That's the basic gist of it, yes."

Jack sighed. "Well then. Anything else I should know about?" He said with a slight smile, making light of the fact that this was more than enough to take in.

Bill smiled back. Jack was taking this much, much better than he had expected.

"No Jack, that's about it."

Jack sighed and reached up to rub his face with one of his hands. He didn't say anything for a moment, he just stopped to think and try to absorb everything Bill had told him. He then finally put both of his hands in his pockets and looked back up at Bill.

"I need to go back inside. What are you planning to do about all of this?" He asked.

"We've sent word to a friend of Nathan's in Calgary. He says he's coming to collect the evidence, and to arrest the two men in charge. And he's bringing backup."

Jack nodded. "That's good. You'll need more than two people to go after them. This could get ugly, if they feel cornered."

Bill shuffled around nervously. "Actually, we were hoping that you could maybe help us with this too."

"Bill, I'm not a Constable anymore, I'm not sure what I am exactly. I don't have any authority to get involved."

"Maybe not, but we need all the help we can get. But if you're not feeling up to it..."

"I'm up to it, I just don't know what I could do." He then sighed again and said, "Bill, I really need to get back. We can talk more about this later."

Jack then climbed the stairs to go back into the house. He hadn't been paying attention, but it then occurred to him that Little Jack had been very quiet for a while. It unnerved him slightly. Little Jack hadn't been quiet for a period of time that long in over a week.

Opening the door, he was surprised to see Little Jack asleep on Nathan's shoulder. And Nathan was cuddling him as if he were Little Jack's own father, his eyes softly closed, rocking him back and forth gently.

Jack stopped and stared at them for a moment. Nathan heard the door creak and opened his eyes to look at him.

"Here, take him." Nathan said softly. He stood up and walked over to Jack, handing Little Jack off to him carefully. Little Jack didn't stir.

"We should be going," Nathan then said. Bill was standing in the doorway. "Did you tell him everything?"

"I gave him the abbreviated version, yes."

"Alright then. Good night, Jack." Nathan said abruptly. He took his hat, which he had hung on the nail by the door, down, and went to leave.

"Wait a minute." Jack called after him.

"Shh. Don't wake him up." Nathan said.

Jack gave Nathan a tiny smile. "Where did you learn how to do this?"

"Do what?"

"Take care of him. You don't seem like much of a baby person."

Nathan didn't respond; he just gave Jack a look. It was a sad look, a look that Jack hadn't really expected to see coming from the otherwise most stoic person in Hope Valley. For just a flicker of a moment, Nathan almost looked as if he might cry. But just as soon as it appeared, he replaced it with his usual stonefaced look; whatever had happened in that moment, he had gotten it under control.

"He has a niece. Maybe that's where he learned." Bill responded jokingly.

Nathan still didn't say anything. He merely turned, put his hat back on, and walked out the door into the night.

* * *

Elizabeth sighed as she sat down in a rickety chair and looked at her hands. They were red, raw, and incredibly dry, both from cold and the constant washing that Lucas was always scolding her to do. '_They have to be clean, dirty hands spread the disease and cause infection_,' he said over and over again. He made her, and everyone else, wash with a soap so harsh she thought it must have been made of pure acid. And the harshness was compounded by the fact that the weather didn't feel like it had gone above freezing since they had arrived. It had snowed nearly every day. It made her think about how back home, they had probably gotten snow too, but not like this. In higher elevations the weather was much more severe. She longed for a cozy night spent at home, wrapped up in her warmest flannel blanket, cuddled up close to Jack and Little Jack, all of them sitting next to the woodstove and eating hot bowls of soup. It would be their first winter together as a family. She hoped she would be home in time for Christmas.

She had never known work like this. Teaching could be tiring of course, as it involved standing all day and wrangling children with short attention spans. Sometimes they would take field trips, and those would mean lots of walking and sometimes climbing up trees or onto rocks. But the schoolday was always only 7 or 8 hours long, and afterwards she would go home, sit down, make a cup of tea, and read or grade papers. In nice weather she might go for a walk. Here though, there weren't days. Night blended into day which blended into night. She had long forgotten the date or what day of the week it was. Everyone slept when they could, which wasn't very often. They had been at this for a month now, and the exhaustion was indescribable.

She never complained though. It was the same for everyone. And her job wasn't even the most arduous. She had been taught the very basics of nursing, and was then trusted to try to keep fevers from getting too high and scabs from getting infected. She did laundry and cooked food and sterilized bandages and needles. She did whatever anyone asked her to do without question. And she was tasked with taking care of the children, many of whom had lost at least one parent, sometimes both parents. She tried not to think about the children who were sick themselves, but she knew there had been several deaths among them. And that thought made her think about Lucas.

If she was exhausted from her work, she thought Lucas must have been nearly driven mad by fatigue. She hadn't seen him stop moving since they arrived. They were never able to talk, he was always rushing about, the only words they exchanged were about the sick (or about hygiene). But despite the nonstop work, he seemed to be constantly filled with energy. He looked confident, albeit worried about the ill. He was completely in his element and knew exactly what he was doing. He may have been a medical school dropout, but here he looked every bit the experienced physician. And the people had noticed his efforts and abilities too - every day she overheard people talking about him and about how wonderful he was. They all called him "Doctor." Everyone looked at him with complete, absolute, unadulterated trust. And she couldn't have possibly been prouder of him.

Rubbing her hands, she looked up and around the room. It was the infirmary they had quickly put together once they arrived; in it, they housed the sickest patients. It had twenty beds in it, and all but two of them were empty. It made her smile slightly. The outbreak was slowing down. More than that, in fact. It was almost over. Soon, they would be going home.

She sat there for a moment, grateful at the chance to get a moment's rest, then stood up again. She pulled her coat in closer and re-tied her scarf around her neck. She then went to a shelf to get the blankets she had come in here for, took them down, and started to walk towards the door.

However, before she could leave, she was confronted with an older looking gentleman dressed in an army uniform. He had an armband with a red cross pulled over one of his sleeves. He smiled at her and she smiled back; Dr. Yanic Redmond. She knew him well at this point.

"Who are those for?" He asked, referring to the blankets.

"The Websters. Lucas just gave them permission to go home, since their littlest has recovered. They've got about a day's journey though, and they don't have coats."

"Ah. Well here, take a seat with me just for a moment. They're not going anywhere anytime soon."

Elizabeth smiled and complied. They both grabbed chairs and sat down. Elizabeth rested the blankets in her lap and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Here. It'll warm you up some."

She opened her eyes to see Dr. Redmond holding a flask out to her. She couldn't imagine what was in it.

Still, she took it. She opened the cap and smelled it; it smelled exactly as she expected, like acrid alcohol.

"This isn't going to turn me blind, is it?"

"Please, miss. I am a doctor. I treat blindness, I try not to cause it."

She laughed. Then, she held the flask up in a mock toast, and took a swig of it. Her face immediately twisted at the taste of the alcohol, her eyes screwing shut and her lips pursing. She had no idea what it was, but it was strong. Very strong. It burned her throat going down.

"Good, isn't it?"

She made a noise that was halfway in between a laugh and an "ugh," then wiped her mouth and handed the flask back to him.

"What is that?" She said, now coughing.

"Whiskey. I think. Or at least it was at one point."

"My husband would like it."

"I think I'd like your husband then. He's living in Hope Valley, I assume? Or is he in the army?"

She looked at him briefly; she didn't like talking about Jack in an army context. The army seemed to have completely ignored him, and she wanted to keep it that way.

"No, he's still there." She said curtly, hoping the conversation would end.

He didn't comply though. "You seem relatively young, how old is he? Did he report for inspection?"

She gave him a nasty look. This wasn't going in a good direction.

"No, he didn't. He had a head injury not that long ago, and you never would have wanted him."

Dr. Redmond furrowed his eyebrows. "A head injury? What's his name, if you don't mind my asking?"

She did mind him asking. Still, she complied. "Jack Thornton."

Dr. Redmond smiled. "Ah. That explains it."

Now it was her turn to look confused. "What explains what?"

"I know all about your husband. Lucas told me about him. He's lucky to be alive, miss."

"We didn't think he was, for a while."

"Yes, I know about that too. Total memory loss, living up in the hills for two years. I'm amazed he came back from that, and he wasn't just vegetative for his whole life."

Elizabeth had no idea what the word "vegetative" meant, but she didn't like the sound of it.

Dr. Redmond smiled at her again. "And don't worry. Lucas was absolutely right when he told me that with your husband's history, there's no way he'd qualify for service. He'd be rejected even if he tried to enlist."

Elizabeth exhaled the breath that she didn't realize she was holding. That news came as an immense relief; even if Jack somehow tried to sign up to fight, they wouldn't take him, despite his otherwise perfect health.

"Lucas also told me some other things, about how your husband behaved when he first returned. Said he had mood swings, acted out of character, and had trouble sleeping and eating. He also said he worked compulsively and withdrew from people."

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes. He seemed like a completely different person when he first returned. After a while though he started to seem a little better. I worried about leaving him, but he had improved a lot, and he has friends who are checking on him, so I hoped that he would be alright."

"That's completely normal with an injury like that. It takes time to recover. There's the physical aspect obviously, but there's a mental one too. He went through an ordeal, and he's trying to make sense of it all. Patients like that, they often describe the confusion, and how they can go from angry to sad to happy in an instant. But don't worry. They usually come out of it."

Elizabeth tried to ignore the word "usually." "It's hard not to worry. But I know Jack. If there's a way out of it, he'll find it."

Redmond smiled. "I'd like to meet him, someday. I am a doctor so obviously his case interests me, but even aside from that, he sounds like quite the man."

Elizabeth smiled back. "He is."

There was a brief period of silence. Redmond took two very large swigs from his flask; Elizabeth had no idea how he could do so with a straight face. That alcohol had been horrid. Although she did have to admit, she felt both a little warmer and a little calmer as a result of her own sip. If a person could get past the taste, then she saw the appeal.

"Anyway miss, there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"What's that, doctor?"

"Lucas. You seem close to him."

"We're friends. We've known each other for over a year now."

"Indeed. Well, I've known him for quite a bit longer than that, but even so, I don't think he'd listen to me on this subject. So I was wondering if you could talk to him about something. I mean, not now obviously, he's got enough on his mind, but, once all of this is over."

"What subject is that?"

Redmond looked up at her. "Returning to medical school."

Elizabeth frowned. "I don't even know why he dropped out. I don't think he'd want to discuss it with me."

Redmond took a deep breath. "I know why he dropped out. There was an accident. A friend of his was paralyzed, and Lucas blames himself for it."

Elizabeth gasped and looked at him. "Paralyzed?"

"Yes. Too much to drink one night and fell off his horse. From what I understand, Lucas blames himself for not taking better care of him afterwards. He apparently was initially able to walk away from it, but something happened that worsened the injury, I think there was some pushing and shoving the way young men do with each other, and there was no coming back from it at that point. He'll never walk again. He's alright though, otherwise."

Elizabeth's face fell. "That's terrible."

"Terrible, yes. Very terrible. Though it was many years ago, and I know the man well. He's a professor now, of chemistry. Before the army we taught at the same medical school. He seems happy. Happier than you'd expect."

He then added, "I've also talked to him several times about the accident itself. And about Lucas."

"Does he blame Lucas?" Elizabeth asked softly, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer.

Redmond looked her in the eye. "Not at all. It was an accident, he knows that. If their roles had been reversed, the same thing probably would have happened. And he wishes he could tell Lucas that, but Lucas never goes back to Edmonton. He hasn't even had a permanent address where he could send him a letter."

"He's afraid. He's afraid of what the letter might say." Elizabeth responded.

"Very much so. And that's where I was wondering if you could help."

Elizabeth gave him a puzzled look. "You want me to tell him all of this? To tell him to see his friend?"

Redmond nodded. "To see his friend, and to consider returning to school. Honestly it would just be a formality at this point, all he would need to do is take his exams, which, even now, years later, I'm sure he'd pass easily. He doesn't seem to have lost a step."

Elizabeth smiled. "That's true. You'd never convince me he wasn't a doctor."

"That's because he is a doctor. He just needs a piece of paper confirming him so. And what's more, I knew Lucas well before all of this, years ago. He was good even back then. But now? Now he's even better. He definitely could be cocky in the past. But now, he seems to have lost every ounce of ego he ever possessed."

Elizabeth nodded in response and smiled a bit to herself. That was certainly true; for the past month, Lucas had seemed completely dedicated to the cause. It was what made him their greatest asset, his incredible knowledge combined with his absolute selflessness. It was a side of him she had never seen before.

"So, do you think you can do that, when the time is right, miss? Maybe talk to him about all of this?"

"I can, but I don't know why it's better coming from me than from you."

Redmond smiled at her. "He trusts you. He respects you. And he might be more open to these ideas if they come from you as opposed to some former professor of his whose motives he might question."

Elizabeth paused, thinking about it. She then nodded slowly. "I can try. I can't promise he'll listen, but I can try."

"That's all I ask, miss. And might I say, you've made quite the nurse yourself these past weeks. If you ever decide upon a career change, you might consider medicine yourself."

Elizabeth laughed a bit. "I don't think so, Doctor Redmond. I'm a teacher. And I've never wanted to be anything else."


	16. Chapter 16

_By far the longest chapter of them all. Thank you to all my readers thus far! _

* * *

The rain was coming down in thick sheets. It was so heavy that it was difficult for all of the men to see more than a few feet in front of them. Everything was soaked through to the bone, and it made him worry about many of the recruits catching influenza, or even pneumonia. That was the last thing he needed, to be out here, in conditions that were incredibly dangerous to begin with, with recruits that couldn't be moved due to severe illness.

This trip was supposed to have been easy. It was just a training trip for new recruits, there was nothing remarkable about that. A few drills, some shouting at recruits who stepped out of line, wilderness survival lessons, and maybe an occasional lighthearted conversation around the fire. These trips were usually fun, which was why he had volunteered for it. But this one had quickly turned terrifying. He hadn't been paying attention to their exact whereabouts, and by the time the heavy rain started, it was too late. They were in an area that was extremely prone to land and rockslides and he knew it, but the other instructors had insisted on going forward with the orienteering exercise. Now, the group was divided, and one recruit hadn't returned. He was out there somewhere, lost, and they had no choice but to go looking for him.

"The four of you, there's no more you can do. Head down the slope, get to low ground. Make sure to stay away from the river though, a flash flood is almost guaranteed in conditions like this!" He yelled. He could barely hear his own voice over the sound of the rain, but the four recruits he spoke to nodded. They all looked nervous and he tried his best to appear calm, even though he wasn't. He watched them as they took off running down the side of the mountain.

"Joshua! Joshua Miller! Has anyone seen Joshua?" He then shouted, looking around at the recruits and instructors who were left. Everyone looked around, trying to find Joshua.

"Here sir!" He heard a voice call out. He turned. It was Joshua who had called to him.

"I can't order you to do this, but I need a volunteer to come with me to re-check the area to the north-northwest. My best guess is he's somewhere up there, that's where we found the trail before the rain washed it clean."

Joshua didn't hesitate. "I'm with you, sir!"

"Alright then. We'll be alright, Miller. Just stick with me and keep your eyes open." He then started to head up the slope. "The rest of you, follow the lead of your instructors. Get down as safely as you can. Stick together. And if you hear crashing, and you think it's a landslide, run to the sides, don't run down. Running down just prolongs the inevitable, you won't get away from it. Run to the sides, it's your only chance to get out of the way."

He didn't mean to scare them, especially considering that the average age of the new recruits couldn't have been much more than twenty. They all looked like little more than children to him. But he couldn't stress how dangerous this situation was. If there were a landslide, they needed to know what to do.

Then, he and Joshua Miller disappeared out of sight. He led, Joshua followed, both of them clutching their compasses. The way up the slope was arduous even in good conditions, but the heavy rain had created thick mud that their boots sank into and they were constantly slipping and falling. They both had to haul each other to their feet numerous times. And it was during one of those many times where they helped each other to their feet that he realized that their uniforms had gotten switched. That wasn't terribly surprising; there had been such a mad rush to gather their things and get moving that no one paid much attention to whose coat was whose. He was wearing Joshua's red serge, and Joshua was wearing his. There wasn't time to fix that now though.

They continued on like that for hours. It was getting dark, and he was getting even more nervous. Darkness meant that they had even less chance of finding the missing recruit.

"Sir!"

He turned to look at Joshua. "I think we need to turn south by just a couple of degrees. I remember one of the points that was on the orienteering checklist was pretty close to here. He might have gone there and stayed put, thinking we'd find him there." Joshua shouted at him over the din of the rain.

It was a good idea. A very good idea. He just hoped that the recruit would have had the wherewithall to do such a rational thing. It seemed more likely though that he would just be wandering around the wilderness, hopelessly lost.

"Alright, good thought. Lead the way, Miller." He shouted back.

Joshua nodded, pulled out his compass once more, and got his bearings. The two men then started walking in a southwesterly direction, with Joshua leading the way.

After a time, he could hear Joshua shout, "I recognize this place! It was right here somewhere! I know it was!" They both started looking around, trying to catch a glimpse of anything.

"Gregory! Gregory Dietrich!" they both called. The lost recruit's name. "Gregory! Dietrich! GREGORY!"

Joshua scanned the horizon. The impending darkness was definitely noticeable at this point, and the rain was refusing to let up. He knew as well as his instructor did what this meant. It meant mudslides, landslides, or rockslides. It meant danger. And darkness would compound it, since they wouldn't be able to see any movement of the earth, so they wouldn't know how to get out of the way. It meant they needed to find Gregory as soon as possible and then get the hell out of there.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, Joshua caught a glimpse of something. A glimpse of brilliant red serge.

"Gregory!" Joshua shouted. The two men took off running in the direction of the serge jacket. "Gregory!"

They at last reached Gregory's side. He was exactly at the spot of the orienteering landmark, as Joshua had speculated. But Gregory was unresponsive. He wasn't dead, Joshua could see him shivering, and he didn't look injured, but both men quickly deduced that he was in shock and probably had hypothermia. Joshua quickly shook him, trying to wake him up, but he didn't stir.

"We'll have to carry him down!" Joshua yelled. They both bent down and picked him up, one holding his shoulders, the other holding his legs. They slowly started to make their way down the mountain, still slipping in mud, but doing their best.

And then they both froze. They heard it at the same time. First a rumble that steadily grew, and then the loudest thunder they had ever heard in their lives. They paused, too afraid to turn around but too aware of what it was not too, and looked up at the side of the mountain, now lit only by the faintest dusk light. And they didn't have time to react. There was no time to do anything. There was no hope of getting out of the way. No hope of escape. They saw the rocks coming for them.

He closed his eyes and prepared for death. He hoped it would be swift. He thought about home. He thought about the cabin he meant to build, the children he had wanted to have, all of the things he planned to teach them. He thought about his mother, his friends, and his dog. He thought about the town, with all of its varied personalities. And he thought about her. Over and over again, in a million flashes, he saw all of their memories, all of their times together. He saw her smiling. He saw her yelling at him, the way she had when they first met. He saw the way he teased her. He could smell her perfume and hear her playing the piano. He saw how beautiful she looked by candlelight. He heard her laugh. He felt her embrace and her kiss on his lips. He felt her warmth. All of these things and more, they passed through his memory in just fractions of a second. He saw his whole life in the last moments he believed he had to live.

"THORNTON!" He then heard someone yell. He felt a powerful shove in his side. He felt himself falling, first to the left slightly, then down. He reached his arms out to try to stop himself, but the force of his fall was too great. He was at the mercy of the mountain.

The last thing he felt was his head colliding with something hard on the ground. And then everything went black.

* * *

Jack hadn't woken up violently for weeks. The nightmares had abated, replaced by glimpses of moments in the past that were slowly putting themselves into the correct order. Every night, there was a little more of them. But on this night, he had all of them. They came rushing back like a tidal wave. They finally made sense. And now, for what would be the final time, he woke up screaming.

Jack tried desperately to catch his breath and he reached for his chest, placing his right hand over his heart. It was pounding. His entire body was covered in sweat. He stared straight ahead into the darkness, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular. It took him a few moments before he realized he was back at home, safely tucked into his bed, and not in the wilderness.

It had been a dream. No, not a dream, a memory. A memory of what happened two years ago. A memory of the rockslide, of the conditions leading up to what happened, and a memory of Joshua Miller. The man who had died in his place.

Even though he was now awake, Jack could see him clearly. The face that had been shrouded in fog for years now stood in front of him, clear as day. They looked a lot alike, Jack and Joshua. They were the same height and had the same build. They had the same general face shape and features. They both had light brown hair. The biggest difference was that Joshua had blue eyes. He was also maybe five to ten years younger. He had been a new recruit. A young man, originally from Coal Valley (he had left before it had been renamed and he refused to call it anything else), who had joined the RCMP and had been one of the men on the trip. He had volunteered to go towards the danger instead of to safety with the others. And on that subject, Jack could now hear the rockslide echoing in his head. It was louder than thunder, louder than an explosion, the loudest sound he had ever heard. He had been so sure that he was about to die. And then Joshua pushed him out of the way.

He remembered. He remembered everything.

* * *

The sound of cartons being dropped made Lucas wake up with a jolt. He barely remembered even sitting down, and now it appeared that he had dozed off. He felt guilty for it, since they needed everybody to help load the caravans for the journey home, but he had felt dead on his feet for days now, so he wasn't entirely surprised it had happened.

The outbreak was over. There were a few stragglers who were recovering, but they were well past the point of danger. The infirmary they had set up was empty. Many of the people from the surrounding areas that had come to help had already left, and those from Hope Valley were now packing up and preparing to leave themselves. It had been a long and arduous six weeks and everyone was more than ready to be home, especially considering that winter was setting in and the mountain passes would soon be made much more dangerous by heavy snowfall. No one wanted to be stuck in the area until spring, and people were anxious to get moving.

Lucas sat up and ran his fingers through his hair. He had caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror that morning, the first time he had seen his reflection since they arrived. He looked horrible, with massive bags under his eyes and pallid skin, both reflections of the fact that he hadn't gotten a decent night of sleep in weeks. He figured that as soon as they arrived home Jack would have some fun with mocking his appearance, but, he figured, turnabout was fair play.

"Awake then?" he heard a voice say behind him. He turned around to see Dr. Redmond smiling at him.

He smiled back. "Barely." He replied with a yawn.

"You're exhausted, that's no surprise."

"We're all exhausted. I should be helping with the loading."

He moved to stand up but Redmond touched his shoulder, indicating that he should stay sitting. He complied and was secretly grateful that someone was giving him permission to stay in his chair just a little longer. He looked around to see the others working, and he knew he should be helping, but his feet were finally failing him after weeks of nonstop work.

"I wanted to catch you before you left, and I know you all are headed out first thing tomorrow morning." Redmond said. He pulled out a flask from his jacket pocket and took a long swig, which Lucas viewed with a certain amount of disapproval.

He continued, "You've done quite a job here. Quite the job."

"I just tried to help, in any way that I could."

"Indeed, and you certainly have." He held out the flask to Lucas, who shook his head. "Better not, I already feel drunk with fatigue."

Redmond paused for a moment. "You know, Lucas, I know you won't want to hear this, but...it's never too late."

"Never too late for what?"

"To go back. To finish school. To become a real doctor."

Lucas shook his head. "No. This was a one time only thing."

"Ah. A one-time only thing." Redmond took another swig from the flask. "A one-time only thing where you saved the lives of probably hundreds of people."

Lucas didn't quite know how to respond. "They...they just needed help. And I just did what I could."

"Yes indeed. You did what you could. And you did the work of probably ten physicians. I don't think I saw you sit down until now."

Lucas opened his mouth to respond, but Redmond didn't give him the chance. "Lucas, I know about what happened. About you and your friend."

Lucas looked back at him with shock. He had never told anyone. Not until Jack, right before they left, anyway. And he still wasn't quite sure why he had told him.

"How do you know about that?"

"Because I know the man very well. He's a professor now, did you know that? Of chemistry."

Lucas looked down and shook his head. He had not, in fact, known that. He had never made any effort to reach out to him. He hadn't seen him in years, not since the accident.

"You should go see him, someday. Because I think you'll be surprised at what you see."

He took yet another swig. Lucas couldn't imagine there was much left in that flask.

"He's doing well. He's happy. And I know for a fact that he would love to see you. He's even made an effort to find you, but was never able to. You never seemed to stay in one place for very long."

Lucas just continued to stare at his feet. He didn't know what to say to any of this.

"He doesn't blame you, Lucas. He knows it was an accident. And he wouldn't want to see you wreck your life over it. He wouldn't want to see you give all of this up, not when you have such an incredible gift for it. This is where you belong, Lucas, you belong with the sick and the injured. You belong in the white coat, helping people."

"No, I don't." Lucas was getting angry. "Anyone can hand out blankets and try to bring fevers down, it doesn't make you qualified."

"But passion combined with knowledge absolutely does make you qualified. You have the knowledge, you haven't forgotten one bit of it, not even after all of these years. You got here and you knew exactly what to do. A lot of people are alive because of that. And what's more, I have never seen a more tireless effort from anyone in all of my years of practicing. Six weeks, Lucas, six weeks you've been here, and you seemed not human throughout that time. You never slept. You barely ate. You never, ever stopped. Because you have that fire in you. It's there, clear as day. And everyone saw it, not just me. It's why there are people out there who call you a hero. Have you ever been called a hero, Lucas?"

"No. I haven't."

"Well, you are now. And you should be proud of yourself."

Lucas didn't feel proud. He felt confused. Because what Redmond was saying to him wasn't wrong - he had felt a vigor grow in him that he never knew he had during his time there. Even before as a student he hadn't felt that kind of drive. It was only now that he had felt it grow inside of him. And despite the depression of losing patients to the disease, despite the horror of digging their graves, he hadn't wanted to give up. He just kept going. And every patient who recovered was a shot in the arm to him. It gave him energy. It gave him the fire that Redmond referred to. Perhaps deep down, he actually did feel proud. Proud of what he had done, and proud of the fact that he had been a part of an effort that saved a lot of lives.

Redmond took one last swig from the flask. He looked out a nearby window and could see that the caravan was nearly loaded. He could also see that darkness was descending; Lucas needed to get a full night's rest before departing in the morning.

"It's your decision, of course. But whatever you decide, don't blame it on your friend. It isn't his fault."

Lucas looked up, somewhat offended by that remark. "I never blamed it on him!"

"Good. Because he never blamed you either. And you shouldn't blame yourself."

Redmond stood up. He tucked the probably empty flask into his coat pocket.

"I don't know when I'll see you again, Lucas. Perhaps never. But know this: even if you never set foot in school again, even if you go back to running a saloon or whatever I heard you do nowadays, you should stop being a coward and go to see him. I know for a fact that he'd greet you with open arms. I know this because he told me so."

Redmond then walked out of the room. Lucas just looked back down at his feet. '_A coward_,' he thought. '_That's exactly what I am. A coward_.'

* * *

Jack bent down to button up Little Jack's coat, then took him by the hand and led him down the steps. They had ventured into town to buy some food from the general store, but it had taken quite a while to get there, since Jack kept getting stopped by random townspeople. He did his best to be polite, but their questions were getting to be a little personal. They had seen him multiple times at this point and, despite the rumors of him being a wraith, they were surprised to see that he looked exactly as they had remembered, if perhaps a little older. 'You don't look bad at all, Jack!' they kept saying. And then, perhaps emboldened by his apparent health, they started to pepper him with questions. They asked where he had been, what it had been like to have no memory, and how he was feeling. He answered as best as he could without divulging too much, and at the first opportunity he would make up some excuse about how he needed to be on his way.

Truth be told, he really had not wanted to go into town that day. Not the very same day that his memory had finally returned. In fact, all he wanted to was to tell Elizabeth everything. He wanted to tell her about Joshua Miller and about the disastrous trip into the mountains that culminated in Joshua's death in the rockslide. That was unfortunately impossible though, as she still hadn't returned from the site of the outbreak. It was starting to make him nervous how long they were staying; the weather in Hope Valley was cold and snowy, which meant that the weather in the mountains was worse. At some point, the mountain roads would be made impassable, and they would be stuck there until at least March. Or worse, if the roads were made dangerous and they still attempted to travel on them, it meant the journey would be extremely dangerous. He tried not to think about the obvious parallel between the rockslide caused by heavy rain and the inevitable landslides that would be made more likely by heavy snowfall.

However, he had had no choice but to venture out. They had a grand total of three eggs, a bit of cheese, and a partially rotten onion in the house. A trip to the general store was unavoidable. Now that they were done though, Jack was eager to get them both back home. If for no other reason because night was falling and it was going to be cold, and he didn't want Little Jack to get sick.

Noticing that Little Jack was easily distracted by the various goings on, and thus wasn't walking very fast, Jack picked him up and started to carry him in the direction of home. He wasn't quite fast enough, though.

"Jack!" He heard someone call. He stopped in his tracks and sighed, then turned around. He then saw Bill rushing towards him; this was actually a small mercy, because if there were anyone that he didn't mind seeing, it was him.

"Evening, Bill."

"Evening." Bill had a very serious look on his face that Jack found a bit disconcerting. "Jack, would you mind joining me and Nathan in his office for a minute?"

Jack scowled slightly. "Honestly Bill, I really need to get him home. It's getting cold, I think it might snow again tonight."

"It'll only take a minute. We need to discuss something with you."

Jack had a terrible feeling that he knew what this "something" was. He also had a terrible feeling that he was about to get roped into something that he had no business getting involved with.

Still, Jack was a Constable to the bone, even if he hadn't worn the uniform in years. He sighed again, then walked with Bill to the RCMP office. Bill opened the door, and Jack walked through. The office was dark, there was only one hurricane lantern lit, and yet it wasn't difficult to see that the room was a sea of red serge. Nathan wasn't the only Constable in that room, and it made Jack's eyes widen with surprise.

He heard the door shut quietly behind him. "Who are all of you?" He inquired. A quick glance allowed him to count at least ten mounties, and he guessed there were at least two or three more in the shadows that he couldn't see.

One man stepped forward. He was older, grey haired and paunchy, but gruff faced.

"Constable Thornton, I presume?"

Jack stared back at him. "Not sure if I'm a Constable anymore."

"You are at least for now." The man then eyed Little Jack, who was starting to squirm in Jack's arms. Overall Little Jack wasn't fond of strangers, and this room was filled with them. Jack could tell it wouldn't be long before he started to cry.

"Any chance you could get rid of that?" The man said curtly, gesturing to Little Jack.

Jack narrowed his eyes. "No, no chance." He said coldly.

The man glared at him. "I only meant -"

He was interrupted by another mountie stepping forward. It was Nathan.

"Jack, give him to me, and I'll take him to Rosemary's. Stay here and he will explain everything." He reached out his arms to take Little Jack, but this time, Jack was in no mood to hand him over.

"No. I don't know who any of you are or what you're about to do, but I'm guessing that, given your numbers, it's probably nothing good."

"Jack -"

"Best of luck to you all." Jack deadpanned, sounding eager to leave. He turned around and started to walk towards the door.

"I knew your father, you know."

Jack froze in place, about two steps from the door.

"I can see the resemblance. I didn't know him all that well, but I knew him well enough to know his son when I see him. And his grandson, for that matter."

Jack turned around partially, looking at the older man from the side.

"I also know about what happened to you. And I'm sorry. Terrible thing."

The room had already had an uncomfortable air in it, but now the other mounties shifted around and eyed each other nervously. This was a bit more emotion and empathy than they were used to hearing from the Major Constable.

The older man took a couple of slow steps towards Jack. "Doesn't it make you angry, to think about it? Don't you want revenge? Don't you want to see all of them go down for what they did to you?"

Jack stared back at him. Then, with a voice that was completely expressionless, responded, "No."

The old man narrowed his eyes. "No?"

"No."

"How is that possible? How could you go through all of that and not want any part of bringing them down?"

"Because I'm not objective." He responded quietly.

"Not objective?"

"No, I'm not objective. If I were at all involved in any of this, I wouldn't make the right decisions. I've been a nervous wreck for weeks now, and that's how people get hurt. And you're right, a part of me does want revenge. Which is exactly why I'm not getting involved."

He looked around the room at the mounties gathered there. "You appear to have at least a dozen men here with you sir. I don't think a crippled father approaching middle age who makes bad decisions will be of much help. So, I say to you again: best of luck to you all."

He turned once again to leave, and once again he was stopped. This time however, he was stopped by the sound of laughter. The old man had started to laugh at him.

And again, just as before, he turned his head slightly. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Constable Thornton, you are indeed your father's son."

* * *

Elizabeth didn't like where the caravan had chosen to stop for the night. They were at the base of a very steep slope that she could easily see was covered in partially melted snow, mud, and dead trees. And the weather was turning foul as well; they had descended far enough down the mountain that it was warmer, which meant the precipitation wasn't the fluffy snow they had gotten used to over the last month. Instead, it was a heavy mixture of sleet, wet snow, and rain, which made the conditions on the road treacherous. Twice already they had gotten stuck and lost time due to having to free a wagon from the road, which was now more quicksand than pathway. It was dark so she knew they had to stop, but from what little she had ever gathered listening to Jack talk about wildnerness survival, this was not a good place to do it. The conditions were ripe for landslides.

Trying to take her mind off of it she busied herself with passing out blankets to various people. Everyone looked careworn, exhausted, and cold. It had been a long, arduous few weeks. She knew she probably looked exactly the same way. It had long since been she even considered her appearance; her hair was tied back in a messy braid, her clothes were filthy, and she couldn't even imagine what her face must have looked like. Her vanity meant that she hoped she would have a chance to take a bath before Jack saw her upon her return.

After handing a blanket to a particularly grey-faced older woman that Elizabeth didn't recognize, she spotted a dark haired man sitting in solitude, staring into the flames of a campfire. His clothes were just as dirty as hers but there was no mistaking that style of dress. Lucas.

She approached him quietly, and he didn't notice her. He just kept staring into the fire. He was in fact so oblivious that when she unfolded the last blanket she had with her and draped it over his shoulders, it made him jump. She laughed a little bit, and when his eyes registered that it was her, he bashfully smiled in return.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to sneak up on you." She sat down on a fallen tree next to him.

He turned his head to look back into the fire. "It's not hard to do these days. I think you could be an opera singer belting out La Traviata and I wouldn't notice you."

"Hmm. I'll have to try that sometime."

A silence then descended between them. Elizabeth was well aware that they had barely exchanged five words ever since their arrival; they had been so focused on treating the sick that there was just no opportunity whatsoever for conversation. And she missed him. Lucas was always such a lively and charismatic soul, they had never struggled to find things to talk about, not from the day he first arrived in the Valley. But now there was just an overwhelming sense of awkwardness.

She tried to break the ice, but she also wanted to steer the conversation in a particular direction. "I will miss Dr. Redmond. I came to really enjoy his company."

Lucas nodded. "He's a good man."

"He seems to adore you. He told me a lot about your history together."

Lucas let out a small snort. "I'm sure he did."

"Lucas -"

"Let's not do this now, Elizabeth, please. I'm too tired for it."

Elizabeth wasn't going to be dissuaded. "I know you're tired. I'm tired too. But you can't run away from this forever, Lucas. And we're stopped for the night, so, now's as good a time as any."

Lucas side-eyed her but didn't say anything.

Elizabeth cleared her throat and pulled her shawl around her shoulders closer. "He told me about what happened. About the accident."

She looked over at Lucas, hoping for a reaction. She didn't get one; he just continued to stare blankly into the flames.

"He also told me that you seemed to have the idea in your head that it was your fault."

Still, there was no response.

"And finally, he told me that your friend is actually doing really well. He's a professor now."

"I know. He told me the same thing." Lucas responded quietly.

"Lucas," she began slowly. "You really should go see him, you know. It really might help you to find some peace."

Lucas didn't quite know what to say in response. He wondered if his exhaustion was so great that it was starting to affect his judgment, because truth be told, Dr. Redmond's final words to him had been echoing in his mind for days. _Coward. Go to see him, coward._

"I wish you would forgive yourself." She said in a voice that was barely more than a whisper. "I wish you could see what everyone else sees."

"And what is that, exactly?" He asked her, his voice sounding somewhat rude. He meant it as a retort, not an actual request.

"They see dedication. They see fire. They see limitless ability. And they see how all of that is wasted, all because you won't let the past die."

Lucas tossed a tiny stick into the fire. "People should mind their own business."

A silence passed between them. Elizabeth shivered and pulled her shawl in closer. She looked up at the sky and saw the wintry mix continuing to fall; her head was wet with it. Lucas' was as well.

"So do you think you ever will?"

"Ever will what?"

"Go to see him. From what I understand, he would love to see you. He's been trying to write you letters, trying to get in touch with you, but you never stay in one place for long enough."

Lucas sighed. "I'm not sure. I don't know if I can face him."

"I really hope you'll try someday. Because even if you don't go back to medicine, I want to see you put it behind you. I want to see you happy."

Her unusually intimate words made for an awkward silence. Then after a pause, Lucas said very quietly, "I loved you, you know."

Elizabeth looked at him and could feel a lump form in her throat. She tried to push it down.

"I loved you, and I tried really, really hard to hate your husband. I think a part of me might truly hate him. But most of me doesn't."

Lucas sighed and ran his fingers through his wet, overgrown hair.

"But I couldn't. He's a damn good man, Elizabeth. I tried so hard to convince myself that he was violent, or mad, but it didn't take me very long to figure out that he was just sick. He's probably worlds better even now, now that it's been a couple of months. And he'll only continue to get better."

"He is a good man, Lucas. The best I've ever known. But for what it's worth, I think that..." her voice trailed off.

He looked at her, hoping for her to go on.

"...I think that, had he not come back, had he really been dead, we may have had a future. But Jack is..."

"I know. I know soulmates when I see them." Lucas said with a smile. "I was never going to compete with that, not even if he stayed dead. I might have filled the void, but I never would have been a replacement."

"It also didn't help that people treated him like he was God. I'm not used to that. Because...well, to be honest, it was always me that they treated like that." Lucas said, still smiling to himself.

"What do you mean?"

"Did Redmond tell you what I was like in school, Elizabeth? Did he tell you that I was always top of the class, without really even trying very hard? That I was always told I was incredible, amazing, a prodigy? That I was the person who was treated like God?"

"Not really. He alluded to it, but never said it outright."

"Well, that was kind of him. Because I was the most arrogant person you ever would have seen. You'd have hated me back then. And then to come here, to Hope Valley, where I'm just the guy who serves everyone's drinks, and I'm compared first to Nathan and then to Jack, both of them great Constables and men of the law, one of whom literally came back from the dead...it wasn't what I was used to. I wasn't used to being just a normal man. I wasn't used to coming up short."

Elizabeth couldn't help but laugh slightly. She hadn't thought of it like that, but now that he brought it up, she could see it. She could see how that could be perceived as a fall from grace.

"I didn't hate Jack. I didn't hate Nathan. I envied them both. I envied how much respect everyone gave them. I envied how they got to spend every day feeling like they were making a difference."

He then added quietly, "If there were ever something that would get me to return to medicine, it would be that. Not a desire to impress people or to gain praise, that's what I did before. I'm not that person anymore. If I were to go back, it would be because I wanted to do something. To make a difference, just like they make a difference."

"Lucas, don't you see though? That's exactly what you've been doing for the past month. Dozens of people are alive because of you. If that's not making a difference, I don't know what is."

Lucas nodded his head a few times. "I know that. Don't think I don't know that. I never thought I'd go back, I really didn't. But now..."

Elizabeth smiled. "Now, you're considering it."

He looked at her and returned the smile. "I'm considering it. No promises, so don't hold me to this. But, considering it."

Elizabeth's smile turned into a grin. "Well. That's progress."

* * *

"You know, my wife will be extremely upset if you get me killed while she's away."

"Oh I've thought of that, believe me."

"I mean, I was dead for two years, and now I'm back, and if I actually die doing this, she's not going to be happy with you, you know that right?"

"Just shut up, Thornton."

Nathan and Jack were crouched together behind a tree in the woods. The evening had been quite eventful so far; Jack had somehow, despite his protests, been roped into getting involved in arresting not only the two men in charge, but also most of the new sawmill workers, on charges of embezzlement. He had been introduced to Major Constable Harrison Porter as well as his entourage of fourteen mounties who had all traveled with him from Calgary to Hope Valley. Their numbers were considered necessary due to the scale of the operation. But when they had all gone to the sawmill to perform the arrests only to find it empty, Jack was quick to point the finger at Porter for being so conspicuous. Had it really not occurred to him that waltzing into a tiny town with over a dozen mounties (who hadn't even bothered to wear plainclothes) might raise alarms in those who knew they were breaking the law? And sure enough, the men in charge and their workers had fled the scene into the forest surrounding Hope Valley...but not after taking the time to grab their ledgers, letters of correspondence, and other papers from the offices above the sawmill. Meaning, all of the evidence was gone.

Luckily for them though, the men were clearly not very experienced with the wilderness. Their trail was not difficult to find, though it had led the posse to the river, and from there the trail had been tougher to pick up. The task also wasn't made any easier by the darkness. But, Jack and Nathan, both having experience with wilderness tracking, were able to eventually get it again, and it led to a campsite maybe fifteen miles outside of town. There, they found several of the mill workers, though not all of them; it was clear that the group had decided to split up, and Bill, Harrison, and about half of the mounties Harrison brought with him had gone after the other group. That left Jack, Nathan, and the remaining mounties to take down this group.

It would not be an easy task. Quite a few of them looked pretty big, and they were armed to the teeth. Nathan, Jack, and the mounties had their pistols and a few rifles, but they were outnumbered and outgunned. Jack had no idea how they were going to pull this one off.

"So what's the plan?" Jack whispered to Nathan.

Nathan looked back at him. "What makes you think I've got a plan?"

"Because you always have a plan."

"I could say the same thing about you. And you've known me for like, two months Jack, how do you know that about me?"

"I just assumed, you seem like a guy who's always ten steps ahead."

"Well you assume incorrectly, in this case at least. Because your guess is as good as mine."

They had about six other mounties with them, all of whom looked nervous. They were clearly looking to Nathan and Jack for leadership and, finding very little, they were losing confidence that this whole thing was a good idea.

"Do you think we should try talking to them?" Someone piped in.

"Yes, let's offer to talk about our feelings, that'll get them to surrender." Someone else whispered sarcastically.

"It's not the worst idea," Nathan responded. "One of us should go. That way they won't feel quite so threatened."

"Great. Who's in the mood to die today?" Another mountie chimed in.

Jack turned around and crept slightly closer to the tree, trying to get a better look at the men. It was dark, and it took him a few seconds, but he finally got a glimpse of one of their faces, and his mouth dropped open.

"Wait. I know him!"

Nathan went up alongside him. "Who? Which one?"

"The one with the red hair. I know him, he was at the Silverton logging operation with me. His name...what was his name...ah, Peter, that was it!"

"I'm surprised you remember him."

"That makes two of us. I do though, and he wasn't a bad man if I recall correctly. I remember him giving me extra food."

And then, before anyone could stop him, Jack placed his pistol on the ground and stood up. Nathan hissed at him, but not before he began to walk slowly forwards towards the men.

"Evening, gentlemen." He called out to them. They immediately reached for their guns and cocked them, but luckily, no one shot.

"Hello Peter." He said to the red haired man. "Do you remember me?"

The red haired man named Peter looked surprised that this man emerging from the trees was addressing him. He stood up slowly and squinted, trying to make out Jack's face.

"I'm a little heavier than I was, and my hair is shorter...I think you knew me as Joshua Miller."

Peter's face then twisted into shock. The other men with him nudged him and asked him under their breaths who this guy was.

"Joshua?"

Jack smiled. "It's actually not Joshua. It's Jack. It's a long story. I'll tell you sometime, assuming we don't all kill each other tonight."

Peter still looked shocked and didn't say anything in response.

"Now listen," Jack continued slowly. "I know the story behind all of you. I know that most of you are former criminals, and you were released from prison to work in the mill."

"Yeah, and we ain't goin' back there!"

"To prison or the mill?" Jack responded immediately. That drew some nervous laughs from the men, which Jack was glad to see. Lightening the mood was never a bad thing in situations like these.

"Prison." Peter responded.

"You weren't in prison. I remember you, from Silverton."

"I was before then."

Nathan decided it was time for him to get involved, as he thought he could see where Jack was going with this. He disarmed himself and stood up slowly, holding his arms out to his sides to show he was unarmed.

"And no one is saying any of you have to go back." Nathan said. Jack turned to look at him, surprised that he was coming forward.

"No one has to get hurt tonight. Just in case you were wondering though, we do have you surrounded."

The men all shuffled around nervously, looking out into the trees, trying to see if they could catch a glimpse of anyone. It was too dark though.

"You're lyin'." One of the men said.

"Constables?" Nathan said. Those still hidden by the trees responded by whistling, clearly demonstrating their numbers.

"We have an idea though. We know you all aren't who we're after. We know you're just men trying to make your way in the world. So we have an offer for you: in exchange for your testimony against the two gentlemen who brought you here, as well as anyone else you may know to be involved in embezzlement from army operations, you will be absolved from any guilt." Jack said.

"What does 'absolved' mean?" One of the men said.

"It means you won't be arrested or charged. You'll be free to go, in exchange for your testimony." Nathan said back. He and Jack exchanged a look; they actually had no idea if that was even possible, and they hadn't planned this at all, but they could tell that the men were thinking it over.

The men all looked around at one another. A couple said they liked the idea; another couple of them said they didn't trust these two men and they thought it would be a mistake to surrender.

Jack decided to address Peter again. "Peter. I remember you being kind to me. You're not a bad man, Peter."

Peter stared back at him. He wasn't armed, but he didn't look like he was ready to surrender yet either.

"I remember you giving me extra food sometimes. That was nice of you."

"Not that you ever ate it." Peter responded curtly. Jack smiled.

"No, I don't think I did. But it's the thought that counts."

Jack looked around at the rest of the men. "I imagine a lot of you have a lot in common with Peter here. You were down on your luck, you committed crimes, but I imagine most of you didn't really want to. I don't think any of you are really bad men. If you were, I think we would have seen a lot more trouble from you. But you worked for weeks in the mill and there wasn't a single incident. That tells me something, boys. It tells me that you're just trying to make a fresh start of it."

He took another couple of steps towards them. One or two of them raised their weapons, but most did not.

"No one has to get hurt tonight," he repeated. "Come back to town with us. You'll be safe. You have my word. You're not who we're after."

"And who are you, to offer up your word? You're a nobody." One of the men yelled back.

"He's not a nobody. He's a Constable, just like the rest of us." Nathan chimed in, also stepping forward. Jack side eyed him but didn't say anything.

"And if that's not enough, you have my word as well. Constable Thornton here is right; you're not who we're after." Nathan added.

Peter stared at Jack for a time, and Jack didn't break eye contact. Peter was more than a little surprised to see him looking this way; he remembered Jack as Joshua, a simpleton who had long hair, a pallid appearance, and who never spoke. This man was the complete opposite of that: poised, composed, and speaking about five times more than Peter had ever heard Joshua say in over a year's time. But the eyes, the eyes were the same. No matter how blank Joshua appeared on the surface his eyes always seemed alert and aware. And kind. Joshua always had kind looking eyes.

Peter then took a step forward towards Jack. He took a deep breath, and still without breaking eye contact, held out his rifle.

Jack reached out to take it, but when he got a hand on it, Peter still didn't let go of it. "Your word?" He asked again.

Jack smiled. "My word."

* * *

Elizabeth shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around her body. She was in a wagon, protected from the elements, but she couldn't sleep. She had no idea what time it was, apart from it being the absolute dead of the night. She couldn't get her mind off of the conditions they were in. The wintry mix had refused to let up, and it had turned the road into a complete slop. The wagons were sinking into it; more than once she was jolted out of her almost-sleep by the feeling of her wagon slipping an inch or two. She kept trying to go back to sleep, but it was simply impossible.

She looked out of the back of the wagon. No one else was awake. Lucas had gone into a nearby wagon in order to sleep himself. No campfires were burning. There were no signs of life. It was pitch black, freezing cold, and the only sound she could hear was the relentless freezing rain hitting the roof of her wagon.

'_Go to sleep, Elizabeth. You need to relax._' She tried to tell herself. And she knew that she did need sleep. She imagined people would start waking up in a couple of hours and they would try to continue on the road. There would be a lot of work to do. How far they would get she didn't know; based on the conditions, she didn't think very far.

She sighed and reached up to touch her face with her hands. She rubbed her eyes, then closed them. And she tried to think of happier things, things that would take her mind off of the treacherous conditions and the bonechilling cold.

She thought about the cabin. Jack probably had finished it by now. She tried to picture what it would look like on the inside, with thick rugs on the floor, a sofa or two, and a roaring fireplace. She thought about the three of them all cozied up in front of it...or rather, the four of them. She wondered if Jack and Rip had been reunited. She thought about piping hot coffee and pastries at Abigail's; she had eaten nothing but soup, weak tea, and boiled potatoes for weeks, and Abigail's cooking sounded like heaven. She thought about getting back to the saloon and having a bowl of chili with Lucas. She smiled to think that chili would no longer make her sad.

And she thought about Jack. She hoped he was better. She knew it would take a long time for him to come back completely, but he had gotten so much better just in the time while he was working on the cabin. She hoped he had gained back the weight he had lost and that he was healthy again. She thought about how much she just wanted to fall asleep in a soft bed, wrapped in his arms, instead of in deplorable conditions on a dangerous mountain road. She pictured his smile, his dimples, how he wrinkled his nose a bit when he laughed.

'_How could I have ever hated him._' She thought with a smile. And truth be told, she really hadn't ever hated him. She found him arrogant and irritating, but she would never have described it as hatred.

She sighed and rolled onto her side. Again, she tried to pull the blanket in closer and shivered. There would be no relief from the cold until she was home, she knew that. It was a futile exercise to try to fight it. She closed her eyes once more.

She was so lost in thought, in fact, that she barely noticed it at first. She felt the wagon shift again slightly, but it had already done that several times so she didn't pay it much mind. But then it did it again. And again. And again. And each time, it grew a little more violent.

She sat up slowly, her eyebrows furrowing with confusion. She could feel the slightest rumble, and she at first thought it was someone else in the wagon moving perhaps a trunk. But the others in the wagon with her who had been sleeping were waking up. They all looked around at each other, looking to each other for answers.

The rumble was getting louder. The wagon was beginning to shake. In fact, the ground itself was beginning to shake. Elizabeth could hear a few people from other wagons stumbling out of them, looking around and exclaiming to each other things like, 'Do you feel that?' and 'What is going on?' Elizabeth could feel her heart starting to beat faster.

She got up to a seated position, then popped her head out the back of the wagon. She could hear multiple people moving around outside. She heard Lucas' voice among them, calling out to each other.

And then, all at once, the rumble turned into a roar. The entire ground shifted beneath her, greatly this time. Everyone in the wagon grabbed the sides to hold themselves up and a couple of the women let out yelps. Elizabeth could hear herself breathing a little heavier and faster. She looked up desperately out the back of the wagon, hoping for an answer. And she got one. Because the next thing she heard was someone scream out, "LANDSLIDE!"

Everyone all at once began to scream and panic. They all rushed out of the wagon, scrambling, trying to think of what they should do. They ran in all directions. Elizabeth was terrified but she tried to remember as best as she could what Jack had always told her about landslides: run to the sides. If you run down, you're only prolonging the inevitable. Run to the sides if you can, and try to get out of its path.

Lucas apparently had the same idea, because he quickly appeared behind her wagon. Neither of them said anything, he just grabbed her hand and gripped it in his, and she rushed out of the wagon. She didn't have time to put her shoes on. As soon as she was out, they ran, hand in hand, laterally along the slope.

Elizabeth could feel bits of tree and soil detritus hitting her face. Her feet slipped in the mud. And ice and snow still fell from the sky, and it was still pitch black so she couldn't see anything. She just ran. And she held tightly onto Lucas' hand, and he held hers tightly in return.

There was screaming everywhere. It was quickly getting drowned out by the sound of the impending landslide however. It was coming for them, and it was coming fast. People, wagons, horses, they were already starting to be impacted by the rushing of the loose land and fallen trees. She glanced back over her shoulder once, but she couldn't see anything. She could only hear people shouting, screaming for someone to help them.

She and Lucas didn't make it very far. She soon felt the ground cave out from underneath her bare feet. She looked to her right, and she could see a massive collection of tree trunks baring down on her and Lucas. She looked at him, panic stricken, then wrenched her hand out from his and shoved him as hard as she could out of the way of the falling trees. He cried out and fell off to the side of her, and soon, she also felt herself falling. The sharp branches of the trees cut her face and her neck. The heavy trunks were right on top of her and she tried to reach out her arms to protect herself from them. She closed her eyes and continued to fall, fall, fall...

The last thing she felt was her head hitting a rock. And then the entire world went black.


	17. Chapter 17

"For heaven's sake Bill, you have to hold still!"

Faith tried one more time to approach his wound, then took a step back. She looked around the room at Nathan, Jack, and the older man and the three mounties that had followed him into her nursing room. She gave them all a brief nod, and they all nodded back in response. Then, they approached Bill from all sides and each of them grasped a part of his body. The three unknown mounties held his legs, Jack held his right arm, and Nathan held his left, thus pinning him to the bed. Bill yelled at them all to get off of him (using language that was more colorful than they were used to hearing come out of his mouth), but they held fast, and Faith then went up to him and took a deep breath.

The men all screwed their eyes shut at the sound of Bill's scream. While Jack and Nathan had managed to subdue the sawmill workers they had been assigned with no resistance, Bill and Harry had had no such luck. A shootout had occurred that luckily didn't leave any of the mounties dead, but two of the sawmill workers were killed in the crossfire and Bill had taken a shot in his left collarbone area. Everyone was thankful that it wasn't a mortal wound, as it had missed all of his major arteries - a miracle, according to Faith - but the bullet had to be removed and the wound stitched closed, or it would fester, and Bill would likely die of sepsis.

She tried to work as fast as she possibly could. The men all held him as still as possible, despite his struggle against their grasp. It was gruesome work, but she was used to the sight of blood, so she was handling it better than many of the men in the room. Jack and Nathan didn't look too bothered, and in fact they just looked sympathetic to Bill's pain, but at least one of the other mounties looked violently ill. She prayed he wouldn't faint, or he'd lose his grip on Bill's leg and Bill would start thrashing again.

"Almost...there..." she could see the bullet, she just needed to get a grip on it with her medical pliers. Bill didn't hear her, he just continued to scream at the pain.

"It's alright Bill! It's alright!" Jack shouted at him. Bill didn't hear him either.

"Almost...there..." she said again. "There! I got it!"

She lifted her pliers out, and they held a brass colored bullet in them. She dropped it into a nearby metal medical dish. Her hands were covered with Bill's blood, and she quickly wiped them on her apron. She briefly went to get her stitching materials, but quickly deduced that stitching wouldn't work. The wound would need to be cauterized.

"Where are you going?" Nathan yelled at her as she ran into her back room. "He's bleeding out!"

She didn't respond. Instead, she grabbed a metal rod out of a cabinet and stuck it into the woodstove. She had left the door behind her open and everyone could see what she was doing. They all exchanged a look of horror. Bill wasn't struggling, and he had stopped screaming; now he just seemed like he was panting and trying to catch his breath. Jack didn't have the heart to tell him that the ordeal wasn't over just yet.

After a minute went by, Faith removed the rod from the woodstove. The end that was exposed to the coals now glowed bright orange. Jack tried to get Bill's attention in order to get him to look away, but he wasn't fast enough. Bill saw it, and again began to thrash against the men's hold. It took every ounce of their strength to keep him steady.

"No...no..." he pleaded. Faith steeled herself.

"I have to, Bill. I'm sorry."

The next sound they heard was a hissing noise, followed by Bill's even louder scream. Jack again closed his eyes tightly, and Nathan did the same thing. Nathan wasn't as close to Bill as Jack was, but he cared about him, and it was one of the hardest things he had ever witnessed, seeing Bill in that much pain. He was also nauseated by the smell of burning flesh, which didn't take long to fill the room. Bill's wound turned an ashy color as it burned, and Faith held the rod on it for only about five seconds before pulling it away. Still, those five seconds felt like a lifetime.

"It's over, Bill. It's over." Jack tried to tell him as Faith went to put the rod in a bucket of water to cool it off. Bill stopped screaming, but he now looked as though he was drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness, a normal response to the agony he had just endured. He made small, quiet groaning noises, and his head drifted from side to side.

"Is he - " Jack started to say to Faith.

"I think he'll be alright. I'll keep him here for the next few days to keep an eye on that and keep it clean, make sure it doesn't get infected. He'll have a hell of a scar, but I think he's going to make it." She responded. She looked around at the men in the room once more; they all invariably looked like they were about to vomit. Even Jack and Nathan both looked a bit green.

"Get out, all of you. Get some air." She commanded them. "I can take it from here."

The unknown mounties didn't need to be told twice. They practically stumbled over each other as they rushed out of the room, desperate for air that didn't smell like burned skin. Harry gave Faith a nod of respect, which was unusual for him, as he didn't respect many people, then followed them out, moving with a great deal more dignity than they had. Nathan and Jack exchanged a glance, then they too moved towards the door.

"Thank you, Faith." Nathan said as they walked out.

"Par for the course with you lot around." She said in response.

Jack took a very deep breath outside and ran his fingers through his hair. "Have you ever seen anything like that before?" He asked Nathan.

"No. And I hope I never have to again."

Jack bent over at the waist and put his hands on his knees. He felt his blood pressure suddenly drop and it made him dizzy. He seriously considered sitting down right there in the street, but town was active with a lot of carts and men on horseback riding through, and he didn't want to risk getting trampled. Harrison's backup-backup mounties had arrived, and now Hope Valley resembled an RCMP garrison. The number of mounties now appeared to outnumber the number of regular townsfolk.

Nathan wouldn't admit it, but he didn't feel so well either. Blood was one thing; cauterization was something entirely different.

Jack stood up again and sighed, now placing his hands on his hips. "I think I need to go for a walk."

"Good idea. I might take one myself. When you get back, Harry wants to meet with you." Nathan said.

Jack turned and looked at him. "Why?"

"He didn't say. He never says. He just said, 'Tell Thornton I need to have a talk with him.'"

"Does he just expect everyone to do everything he says, as soon as he says it?" Jack said with annoyance.

"That's exactly what he expects. And I would advise you not to go against him on that." Nathan said, turning to walk away.

* * *

"Hellooooooo! Is anyone alive out there?!"

Lucas' eyes slowly drifted open as he heard the sounds of shouting. His vision was blurry at first, with the world taking on a hazy greyish sort of hue. He blinked a few times and he could see more and more things coming into focus: twisted bits of branches, tree trunks that had split in half and poked wood colored daggers in every direction, mud mixing with evergreen pine needles, and slushy snow. He was surrounded by a sea of fallen forest material.

He tried to push himself up from the ground. He felt a sharp pain in his right side and immediately reached for it with his hand; when he pulled his hand away, he saw blood. He lifted his shirt up slightly to reveal a deep laceration, and then took a number of deep breaths as he lowered his shirt back down to cover it. It would need to be stitched, but he didn't think any of his internal organs were damaged. He could also feel his right ankle was throbbing; he guessed it was either broken or, at the very least, very badly sprained.

Dazed, he again tried to lift himself off the ground, this time with a bit more success. He got slowly to his feet, again clutching his right side, and hopped a few times, trying to steady himself with the majority of his weight on his left leg. He then took his first look around. The word 'horror' didn't even begin to describe it.

Everywhere, what he could mostly see was just landmass from the landslide, but mixed in with it were the clear signs of the now completely destroyed caravan. Wagons were in splinters, and wagon wheels lay on their sides, completely separated from their original vehicles. Bits of cloth that looked like the remnants of tents and wagon covers were strewn about in tatters. He could see at least one dead horse. And, unmistakably, he also saw people lying on their sides and backs, their faces either buried partly in the mud, or worse, facing upwards, staring lifelessly into oblivion.

As he began to get his wits back, he suddenly remembered who he was, where he was, and who he had been traveling with.

"Elizabeth! Elizabeth Thornton!" He started to scream. He screamed her name over and over again, looking around desperately. "Elizabeth!"

Some other men nearby could hear him, and they called out to him. He ignored them. Instead, he freed himself from the landmass maze he had previously been entrapped in, forgetting both the throbbing pain in his ankle and the sharp pain in his side. He scanned the horizon with complete desperation and panic, trying to see if he could catch any glimpse of a head of auburn hair.

"Elizabeth!" He continued to call out. He tried to make his way out of the trees, but they were everywhere. He didn't really see that many bodies lying about, and he knew it was because the majority of the people were probably buried beneath the wreckage.

He jumped and cried out with surprise when he felt someone grab his hand. He looked over at them wide-eyed, and he saw one of the women that had been part of the caravan. She was alive, but obviously seriously injured.

"H-h-hhelp...Lucas..." She stammered out. Lucas turned towards her and squeezed her hand.

"Don't worry. Don't worry, help is coming." He knew he couldn't free her, she was pinned to the ground by a tree trunk that was too heavy for him to lift, but he didn't want to leave her. "Over here!" He shouted at the men who had previously called to him; it wasn't really necessary though, because they had already begun making their way over to him, and were nearly at his side.

"We need to lift that trunk! We need to get her out!" One of them yelled. They all expressed agreement and started to work together to move the trunk. Lucas held onto her hand but started to scan the horizon again, trying to see if he could see Elizabeth.

He also noticed that it was daytime. The damned winter storm still had not let up, and a mix of freezing rain and snow was continuing to fall. But the sky was grey, not black, which meant it was morning. Which in turn meant that at least three or four hours had passed since the landslide itself.

"How many people have you found so far?" He asked the men who were working to free the trapped woman.

One of them looked up at him. "Not very many. Not alive, anyway."

Lucas tried very hard not to panic, but his heart rate skyrocketed. "How many dead?" He couldn't stop himself from asking.

"Thirteen so far. We've been gathering them together in a field at the base of the mountain."

Thirteen people. That was already a sizable portion of the total group. And there were bound to be others.

Lucas tried not to despair, but he felt tears coming to his eyes. But just as quickly he thought to himself, '_No. You cannot lose yourself. You need to keep it together._'

He brushed the tears from his eyes and took a deep breath. He then started to limp down the mountain. Every step was torture, his ankle was definitely not in good shape. But he had to get down there. He had to look at the bodies for himself. He had to identify as many of them as he could. And he had to know if one of them was Elizabeth.

It felt like it took a year, and he fell more than once, but he eventually reached a clearing. There he could see a number of people moving quickly about. He didn't recognize most of them, and he figured they were probably people from nearby settlements who were responding to the landslide. They hadn't been a part of the caravan itself. But then again, he did recognize a few faces. A few, a very few, but they were the lucky ones who had managed to make it out relatively unscathed. Their faces were cut, their arms were in splints, and a few were just sitting on the ground, unable to walk due to leg injuries, but even from that distance he could tell they didn't have fatal injuries.

But, he also saw something unmistakable. A collection of white cloths laid down in an orderly fashion. The shrouds covering the dead.

He willed himself forward, taking one step, then another, then another, until he reached the collection. He counted thirteen, just as the men had told him. And again, he felt himself start to cry. He knew these people. He knew everyone that had come with the caravan. He had grown close to many of them over the six weeks they had all worked together on the outbreak. And now, in just a few hours time, they were gone.

He reached down and gently lifted the first sheet. A woman. Not Elizabeth.

He moved onto the second sheet. Another woman. Again, not Elizabeth.

The third, fourth, and fifth sheets, all women. None of them Elizabeth. The sixth through the tenth sheets, men. The eleventh sheet, a child. That one made Lucas actually break down crying. Lucas knew her well. She was a sweet girl of only eight or so. She used to bring Lucas coffee in the middle of the night and she adorably called him "Mister Doctor." And now she was sleeping forever. It was too horrible for Lucas to bear.

He was still sobbing as he looked at the twelfth sheet. A man. That left only one more sheet. He lifted it up, even slower than the rest, to reveal a woman's face. An older woman. Not Elizabeth.

He let out a cry of relief and fell to the ground. He was overjoyed that none of them were Elizabeth, but he knew that there was far more to come. There had been over forty people with the caravan, and he had clearly seen bodies strewn about that had not been removed from the wreckage. And he was too hurt himself to be of any help to those who were searching for survivors. He couldn't even do anything for the injured, since all of his medical supplies had been destroyed and were now buried under probably two feet of mud.

Lucas buried his head in his hands, tears freely flowing. There was nothing for him to do now but wait.

* * *

JACK THORNTON

BELOVED HUSBAND, SON, BROTHER, AND FATHER

Jack stared at the headstone. In all of his weeks of being home, he had never come back to the graveyard, not after that first day when he remembered actually laughing at the sight of his name. He hung his head in shame to think about it, to think that he could have had such a terrible reaction. Yes, there had been a mistake. Yes, he had been very much alive, and he was glad to be so. Yes, he had been happy to be home. But Joshua Miller was buried in this grave, and graves were sacred. He should have dismounted his horse, quietly paid his respects, made a promise to Joshua that he would rectify the mistake, and said a prayer. He hadn't thought to do any of that at the time, and it made him feel disgusted with himself.

He tried to think of something to say to Joshua, but no words came. He couldn't think of anything. '_What do you say to the man who died in your place, who sacrificed his life for you?_' He thought. '_Do you thank him? Pray for him? Tell him you'll never forget him?_' That last one seemed particularly bad to Jack, since he had, in fact, forgotten Joshua for two years. He never would again, not for the rest of his life, but he wasn't sure if that would make up for it.

He didn't turn around, but as he pondered all of this, he could hear footsteps approaching him from behind. Eventually out of the corners of his eyes he could see a grey haired figure stop and stand by his side.

"So this is where they buried you, huh?" Harrison asked.

"It's where they should have buried me."

"What did you say his name was again?"

"Miller. Joshua Miller."

"Right. Miller. Damn shame. Sounds like quite the man, he was."

"Yes. He was."

Jack didn't say anymore and he didn't even look over at Harrison. He wished that he would go away. He hadn't forgotten Nathan's message about Harrison wanting to see him, but he had so much on his mind and he wasn't really in the mood to deal with RCMP business. He had given everything to the RCMP, and he didn't regret it exactly, but he wasn't a Constable anymore. He just wanted to be left alone to care for his family and live his life out in peace.

"I looked in on Bill. He's doing a little better. Still in a ton of pain, but he's awake, kind of. Nathan is with him now. And I have taken the liberty of ridding Hope Valley of the two gentlemen who had been staying here for the past months. There's still a lot to work out, but they're in custody, and the fools only managed to burn about half of their ledgers, so we've still got ample evidence against them. The whole thing's not over, but we're making good strides. I liked your idea of exchanging amnesty to the workers in exchange for their testimony. Fine idea, even though you offered it without authorization. I had to pull some strings with leadership, since they wanted to prosecute everyone, but we'll follow through on it. And we'll be doing that with the remaining workers as well."

"Glad to hear it." Jack's voice was devoid of any emotion, not because he didn't care, but because he really wanted Harrison to take the hint and leave.

Unfortunately, Harrison Porter was not one to be turned away. When he wanted something, he got it.

"I believe I told Nathan that I wanted to see you." Harrison said a bit curtly, obviously aware that Jack had ignored his instructions.

"Yes. He told me."

"And yet I haven't seen hair nor hide of you."

"I have a lot on my mind."

"Yes, I know you do. But still, the mission never ends, you know that."

"It does when you take off the red. And as you can see, I'm not wearing it now."

Harrison looked him over. Jack was most definitely not wearing red serge. He just looked like any other townsperson at that point, dressed in a flannel shirt, a brown coat, and slacks.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. About getting you back in uniform. About getting you back to being a Constable."

"I'm not a Constable anymore."

"Says who?" Harrison responded gruffly. "The RCMP is aware at this point that you are alive. You're still a member, albeit an inactive one, on injury leave. But that won't last forever."

Jack side eyed him. "It will if I say so." He responded quietly.

The two men exchanged a deep stare, and a silence fell. Harrison had been slightly worried that this would happen.

"So you're quitting, are you?"

"Yes."

"May I ask, why?"

"Do you really have to ask that? Because I think you know the answer."

"Thornton, mounties are frequently injured on the job. They take some time off, have a rest, and then they come back. It's not a big deal, it happens all the time."

"Not a big deal?!" Jack couldn't believe what he had just heard. "You think it's not a big deal to have everyone you care about think you're dead for two years? You think it's not a big deal to have any idea who you are during that time, and to forget your entire life? You think it's not a big deal to come home and see this?" He pointed at the grave. "Does this happen all the time?"

Harrison smirked a bit. "No. I'll give you that one. This kind of thing most definitely does not happen all the time."

Jack sighed. "I'm not going back. I can't do that to my family again, risk myself. It's not just about me anymore."

Harrison breathed in a deep breath. "It's true, this isn't the safest line of work. But to be fair, really not that many of us actually die on the job. Injuries yes, but death is relatively rare."

"Great. So maybe I won't die, but I'll be maimed or crippled. Hell, I'm already crippled."

"You don't look crippled to me. I know you had some troubles when you first returned, but honestly, you're the picture of health these days. I've seen men ten years younger than you look less vibrant."

Jack was getting irritated. "Well, I'd like to keep it that way. I don't want to become a burden to my wife and children."

Harrison paused and his face took on a decidedly sadder look. "There are no guarantees in life, Thornton. Not for any of us. Life is precious, and anyone's life can change at any moment. And that's for anyone, not just us Constables."

"Well I appreciate that cheerful thought, but there is such a thing as taking unnecessary risks. And at this point..."

"At this point, you don't see the RCMP as worth it any more." Harrison finished his sentence.

Jack cringed a bit. He hadn't really meant to say that. He loved the RCMP, and being a Constable was his passion in life. There was a time when he wouldn't have even dreamed of having a family, for precisely these reasons, because he wouldn't want to subject a wife and children to the threat of losing their husband and father. '_If the Corps wanted you to have a wife, they would have issued you one._' was his motto in life. But all of that had changed now. He did have a wife. He had a son. And God willing, more children would follow.

He approached the subject carefully, not wanting to offend Harrison. Speaking in a softer and gentler tone, he responded, "I don't mean to suggest that being a Constable isn't a noble profession. It was all I ever thought I would do. But now..."

"But now, you have a family to consider. I understand that, Thornton."

Jack sighed with frustration. He really didn't know what to say, because quite honestly, he really didn't know what he wanted. A part of him didn't want to give up the serge. He didn't want to give up the RCMP. But he didn't want to subject Elizabeth, Little Jack, or anyone else to that kind of pain again.

"I started to say earlier, Thornton, that there are no guarantees in life." Harrison continued. He took a deep breath and sighed it out. "Jack, do you know how Nathan and I know each other?"

"No. He never told me."

"No, I don't expect he ever would either. Nathan's never been much of a talker. Even when he was six years old, he was always the quietest boy around. Smart, responsible, serious, and quiet."

Jack looked at him with surprise. "You knew him at that age?"

Harrison nodded. "I've known him his whole life. His parents to this day don't live too far from me. They live on the outskirts of Calgary. I watched Nathan grow up."

He then added quietly, "I even watched him marry my daughter."

Jack was aghast. Nathan was married? He had never mentioned a wife, not once. And Jack had never seen him with a woman in town.

"Nathan is your son-in-law?"

Harrison smiled slightly. "He was. I guess he technically still is. I'm not sure. I don't know what you call your son-in-law after your daughter dies."

Jack was stunned into silence. He didn't know what to say to that.

"Margaret. We all called her Maggie. She died a number of years back, in childbirth. Their daughter didn't live either."

Jack just continued to stare at Harrison. Harrison didn't meet his gaze.

"Nathan always loved children, and the simple life. He went to university, but after graduating, he couldn't get back to country living fast enough. He became a farmhand, which I yelled at him a bit for, since I thought he was wasting his education, but he worked hard, and Maggie loved him so much and they were so happy together, so I couldn't be too upset. All he ever wanted was what you have now, a family, a cabin in the woods. To the point where it's probably hard for him to watch you, living the life he always dreamed of. He never was much for city life, he's always loved places like Hope Valley. And back before Maggie died, it looked like all of his dreams would come true. I wish you could have known him then, Jack. He was a completely different person. He was still a quiet, introspective type, but he loved life. You wouldn't have recognized him, he smiled so much. He never smiles much anymore."

Jack knew that was absolutely true. He didn't known Nathan Grant well, but from what he did know, Nathan could not be described as a particularly happy person.

"After my Maggie was gone, and their baby girl died too, he went down a very bad path. First he turned to the bottle and tried to drink himself to death. He and Maggie, they had been sweethearts since they were fifteen, and childhood friends before that. He reached a point where he...well, he decided he didn't want to live anymore. We were barely able to save him. It was the second worst day of my life, after the day my Maggie died."

"He tried to kill himself?" Jack asked softly. He couldn't imagine Nathan doing such a thing.

"Look at his wrists someday, and you'll see some scars. We somehow managed to get him to the hospital before he was too far gone." Harrison responded.

Jack looked down at the ground. This was all so difficult for him to believe. Nathan Grant, the stoic mountie who had taken his place in Hope Valley, had once been a contented farmhand and father-to-be who was first an alcoholic and then tried to commit suicide after the deaths of his wife and daughter. It was so completely unlike the Nathan that he knew. Then again, he thought back to that night when he and Bill had come to Jack's house, and Jack had found Nathan cuddling with Little Jack as if he were his own son. He remembered asking him where he had learned so much about children, and the look of intense sadness that had come over Nathan's face when he said that. He couldn't have known at the time, but it made him feel terrible, in retrospect, to know that he had asked such a question. Nathan should have been a father too, that's how he knew about children, but his dreams had been ripped away from him.

"He recovered in the hospital, but I knew it was inevitable that he would try again. And he'd succeed the second time. I couldn't believe he failed on his first try, Nathan has never failed at anything. So I did what I thought would work: I tried to give him a purpose. I encouraged him to join the RCMP. It wasn't the only thing he could do, he's smart, he could have done anything, but it was what I did, so I figured I could at least give him some guidance. And he didn't want to do it at first, but I think over time, he grew to like it. He likes helping people. It's what brought him out of the darkness. Or at least, gave him a flicker of light. I don't know if he'll ever be like he was before, but now at least he has something to live for."

Harrison turned to look at Jack then. "I don't know why I'm telling you all of this. He's not going to be happy with me when he finds out. I guess I'm just trying to reiterate that, life itself is a risk, Jack, and you can't shut yourself away and never do anything, because that's not a life. I don't think that's what your wife and son would want for you, especially not when you're so good at what you do. I have to tell you, Thornton, I've seen a lot of mounties in my day, and not very many of them impress me. But you and Nathan, you're among the best I've ever seen. Humble, intelligent, honest, selfless, and brave, but also willing to acknowledge your own shortcomings and doubts. These are qualities you'd think would be more common, and yet they're rare. But you have them in abundance."

"And one more thing: I want you to remember what the RCMP does. It helps people. We protect people. And yes, we take risks in doing so, but, no one who joins the RCMP ever really leaves it. People take off the serge, sure, but you'll always be a Constable, Jack. It's a brotherhood."

Harrison then sighed, put his hands in his pockets, took one last look at the grave, and then started to walk away. As he left, he called back to Jack, "Nathan is your brother. Joshua was too. We'll be here, if you ever decide that you're ready to join us again. The door is always open."

* * *

Lucas had managed to find some very rudimentary medical supplies among the materials brought by the rescuers, and was now diligently tending to the wounded. His ankle was swollen and he couldn't really walk, but he could hobble around well enough. This was a kind of medicine that he wasn't used to, trauma medicine, done in terrible conditions. Even the conditions for the outbreak had been better. Everything was so unsanitary and he begged people to go back to the nearest town for more iodine just so he could have some hope of disinfecting people's wounds. He could set their bones back in place and stitch up their cuts, but he was all too aware of the dangers of infection. Infection was the silent killer.

Four more bodies had been extracted from the wreckage, three women and one man. One of them had been rendered unrecognizable, which made several rescuers ill, but Lucas could tell by the hair color that it wasn't Elizabeth. She was still among the missing. And more survivors had been found too, ranging from dazed but relatively unhurt to seriously injured. He worried about one of them in particular, a young man in his twenties who Lucas had a terrible feeling might not live to see the next morning. His face was pale and he had all of the telltale signs of internal bleeding. Lucas had begun to ask around to see if there was any hope of finding even a basic infirmary nearby where he could perform an operation. It probably wouldn't work, but he had to try.

It was getting late in the day, and given the time of year, the days were so short that Lucas knew they didn't have much light left. He stayed busy tending to the wounded, but every time he heard someone call out, he looked up with both hope and worry. He just wanted an answer. He didn't want to think of Elizabeth lying in the cold slush, buried under hundreds of pounds of wreckage, alone. Dead or alive, he didn't want her to be out there for another night. He hadn't prayed very much ever since the accident involving his friend, but he found himself praying just for an absolution.

And, around 4 o'clock in the afternoon, just as the sky was darkening and the men were preparing to give up for the day, he got one.

"Survivor! Someone come help us!" A man called out.

Lucas looked up, and he could see two men carrying a woman. She was soaked through and, like everyone else, covered in mud. Lucas could also see that it wasn't only water that had left her hair wet; on her left temple she had a large bleeding wound. She was unconscious. But Lucas could tell by the long auburn hair that it was her.

He jumped to his feet and limped over to the edge of the forest as they emerged. Other men came to help them, and they laid her on the ground.

"She's breathing, we checked." One of the men said.

"Get out of the way, everyone!" Lucas said. He knelt beside her and looked closely at her head injury. On closer inspection it actually looked worse that it really was; the cut wasn't deep, it was just bleeding a lot. He checked her pulse, and it wasn't as strong as he would have liked, but it wasn't weak either. He found himself exhaling, as these were all very good signs.

He then began to check the rest of her to see if she had other injuries. He silently apologized to her, then lifted her blouse. He did gasp to see that she had at least one rib that was definitely broken. He bent down and placed his head on her chest, trying to hear her breathing. It was labored and raspy, indicating that there was fluid in the lungs. The rib had probably punctured one of them, but he didn't think it had collapsed. It was a serious injury, but not a fatal one, provided she could get to help quickly.

"Lucas?" One of the men inquired. "How is she?"

Lucas wiped his nose on the edge of his sleeve. "We need to get her to some help. I think she's got a punctured lung. And she has a head injury, but it doesn't look too serious."

"It's getting dark, and the closest town is thirty miles away." Someone said.

"At least we're off the mountain. There are others too, that we need to get to help."

Lucas looked around. The survivors were all clustered together. Many of the ones with less severe injuries were trying to comfort those who were graver. And they tried not to look at the now nearly twenty bodies, covered in white sheets, that were laid out close by.

"Do we have any kind of cart? Any wagon, anything?" Lucas asked. "Anything that could be used to transport people?"

"We've got two wagons. They'll probably hold all the people we've found so far. I know the medical facility, but it's definitely not a hospital. It's used by loggers when they get injured. It's pretty minimal." Another man said.

"I don't need much. I just need some basic instruments and supplies." Lucas used a nearby man's shoulder and pushed himself to his feet, preparing to assist with loading the survivors into the wagon.

"Lucas?" Someone said.

"What?"

"Don't you think you should stay here? We're going to find more people, and we need someone here who knows medicine."

Lucas shook his head. No way was he going to leave Elizabeth on some cart, bound for a medical facility that was staffed by probably one man who wasn't even a licensed doctor. "I'm going with them."

"Lucas? He's not wrong. You need to stay here. We need you."

"I can't just -"

"We know, we know this is Mrs. Thornton, we know you're close. But you said yourself, she's hurt, but she'll be alright. She's a tough bird, that one. And you really do need to stay here. These people need you."

Lucas didn't know what to do. He knew that if he were in their position he'd be advising the same thing. He was the only one there who knew how to treat all manner of injuries. Objectively speaking, he needed to let her go, while he remained. But it felt like he was abandoning her.

"She'll be alright, Lucas. We will get her to help. Trust us." Someone said.

Lucas tried to control his breathing. He needed to stay calm.

Before he could say anything in response, the men again picked up Elizabeth's limp body and carried her over to one of the wagons. Other workers began to help the survivors to their feet, if they could get to their feet, and picked up the ones who couldn't. Lucas watched them, tears coming into his eyes. But he swallowed the lump in his throat and brutally wiped his face. He needed to keep working. He couldn't fall apart. People needed him.

"Alright. If we're not going to search anymore tonight, then let's start building a fire." He commanded, taking charge of everyone. "Someone go to the stream over there and gather up some water. We need to boil it to make it safe to drink. And let's do an inventory of what supplies we have left."

* * *

Night had fallen in Hope Valley. Unlike how it was in the mountains, Hope Valley was receiving a respite from the cold, snowy weather, and the sky shone brilliantly with a thousand stars. The Milky Way could easily be seen, glimmering pink and purple and gold. There was no moon and no clouds, so nothing was there to obstruct the view. And those who had stayed awake late were completely in awe; they had never known such a beautiful sight as that night.

One of those people was Jack. He had returned from the graveyard and collected Little Jack from Abigail, who had taken him for the day. He decided to treat him to dinner in town (Jack was good at a lot of things but cooking wasn't one of them, and he figured Little Jack had been subjected to it for long enough), and Jack found himself socializing with people more than he thought he would. He hadn't wanted to see anyone for weeks, but now the thought of returning to their house to be alone only with Little Jack for company didn't have the same appeal as it once did. He smiled, joked around, and showed off his son to all of his former friends; they in turn complimented him on how strong and well he looked and how Little Jack was already starting to resemble him. And, they made fun of the crow's feet around his eyes and the unmistakable bits of grey hair at his temples and mixed in with his beard stubble. "Getting old there, Jack!" They teased. It was all good-natured of course, as Jack was still a young man, and the grey wasn't noticeable unless you were about six inches away from him, but he had definitely left boyhood behind him forever. He didn't seem bothered by it though. He seemed ready, even happy, to be getting older. Perhaps because he knew better than anyone else that it was much more agreeable than the alternative.

Nathan had been nearby during all of this, as he too had decided to eat in town. No one approached him, he instead sat by himself with a book, but he was only pretending to read it. A few people did say a casual and polite "Good evening, Constable" to him, and he gave them a nod in response, but he was never much for conversation and everyone knew it. But he glanced up frequently to see Jack and Little Jack playing, smiling at each other, laughing. Little Jack jumped onto him at one point for a hug, which Jack strongly returned, kissing Little Jack's head.

Like Lucas, there was a time when Nathan had wanted to hate Jack. He too had also been drawn to Elizabeth, as she reminded him of his long dead wife, not that she or anyone else knew anything about that. And also just like Lucas, he had been deeply envious of the life that Jack had. Nathan had never given himself away, but he had frequently walked up to the site of the cabin and watched Jack build it from afar. And it made him proud to see Jack go from nearly out of his mind to stable and focused, but it also made him angry. What had Jack ever done to deserve all of this, a cabin, a wife, a son, a second chance at life? And then he thought better, and he knew that Jack of course deserved all of it. What he really wondered was, what had he, Nathan, ever done to deserve his own fate, the fate of a widower who was alone in the world?

Nathan eventually sighed, closed his book, paid his bill, and got up to leave. As he passed by Jack he gave him a nod, and Jack smiled at him. Nathan smiled the tiniest of smiles back. Jack had almost become a friend, which was saying a lot, as Nathan didn't really have any friends.

He then walked, a little slower than normal, through the streets of town. He looked around at the people who loitered. Most of them greeted him with a look of respect and deference, but none showed any affection. It again made him envy Jack, to know that he was both loved and respected. Throughout his life, Nathan had always thought that he had to choose between the two. As a younger man, and as a husband and soon-to-be father, he hadn't cared about respect, he just wanted to live a simple life of love and family. Now, as a Constable, he avoided human connection whenever possible, telling himself that he only wanted to be respected, that he didn't care about people, but he knew deep down that he was afraid of forming relationships. He knew the pain that was caused by being left behind when others moved on to the next world.

He began to consider as he walked that perhaps he should open up a bit more. He was never going to be what he was before, as life had simply dealt him too much pain, but maybe he didn't need to shut people out. Maybe it was time to be open to the possibilities of life again. Jack was a living reminder of how short life could be, and how grateful a person should be for each and every day that they had.

He smiled to himself as he walked. His gait was languid and relaxed, as he wasn't really eager to get home. He just wanted to walk. He wanted to be around people for the first time in years. He wanted to hear their conversations and listen to the soft hum of music that wafted out of the saloon. He wanted to join in on their relief that the business with the criminals was over, and that Hope Valley would soon be returning to normal. Life couldn't have felt more perfect, and he wanted to savor it.

Little was he to know however, that in the darkness of the general store, the telegraph machine began to churn. The store was long closed for the night, so no one was nearby to read the piece of paper as it flowed off of the keys. No one would see it until morning.

The message it contained was brutally short.

OUTBREAK CARAVAN. LANDSLIDE. MANY DEAD.


	18. Chapter 18

Lucas woke up with a start as the wagon hit a particularly bumpy stretch of the road. He had no idea how long it had been since they left the site of the landslide; probably hours. He remembered how he had briefly argued with someone about how it was too dangerous to travel overnight, but they had assured him that the roads to the nearest town, the spot where all of the injured had been taken, were flat and nowhere near any dangerous terrain, so he begrudgingly had agreed to it. And moreover, he was too exhausted to put up any kind of a real fight. He had taken one last look at the devastation from the landslide, climbed into the wagon, and almost immediately fallen asleep, as exhaustion overcame him.

Nearly everyone had been found. The final tally: 26 dead, 30 wounded, of which probably 3 had fatal injuries. There were still two people missing and Lucas wasn't hopeful that they would be found alive. It had been too long and the weather too cold; they had most likely either passed from exposure to the elements or from their wounds. He had treated as many of the injured as he could on site, but he knew everyone needed to be transferred to an actual medical facility, which was why he was relieved that it hadn't taken very long to gather together a couple of wagons for just that purpose. They departed beneath a cloudy, foggy sky, with some people covering their faces and crying, and others looking back at the site of the landslide until it couldn't be seen anymore, their expressions numb.

Now, it was just about dawn. The sun wasn't quite up but the sky was a pale, misty blue. Lucas gingerly moved around the others in his wagon to try to look out the back; from there, he could see a few buildings come into view. It wasn't much of a town but it was better than the middle of nowhere. Knowing he would have to be back in action pretty soon, he reached down to redo the bandage he had wrapped around his ankle. Thankfully, he was pretty sure it wasn't broken, it was just a very bad sprain, and he would be able to walk at least somewhat normally within a week or two. The laceration in his side would need to be stitched, but that too wasn't a serious injury. He knew how lucky he was.

The wagons came to a halt outside of a small log building. Other people started waking up, and Lucas climbed (or rather, basically fell) out of the back of his wagon when he saw a man whose shirt and hands were bloodied exit the building.

"Are you the local doctor?" He asked. He didn't even bother to introduce himself; there was no time for pleasantries.

The man looked him over and nodded. "The only one within thirty miles, unfortunately. We've sent telegrams to surrounding areas though, and hopefully others will show up soon."

Lucas swallowed hard. "Did...did you send a telegram to Hope Valley?"

"Of course we did. We know that's where most of these people are from."

Lucas was afraid of that. Yes, the man wasn't wrong, those in Hope Valley did need to be told, but sending a telegram without knowing all of the information would only lead to people panicking, fearing for the safety of their loved ones.

But, figuring it was too late to undo it, Lucas brought the subject back to the injured. "So who have you treated so far? I remember a young man, I forget his name, but I remember suspecting that he had internal injuries..."

"Passed away an hour ago. I gave him morphine though, so it was peaceful."

Lucas momentarily turned his face to the ground, trying to compose himself. He knew that had been all but inevitable, but it was still hard to hear.

He took a deep breath. "There was another person, a woman. Rib injury and a blow to the head. Have you seen to her?"

"Yes. Better news with that one. I set the rib back into place and put some stitches in the injury to her head. Her breathing is a little rattle-y but I don't think it's too severe. She's sleeping now, you can go see her."

Lucas exhaled. That was indeed much better news; it sounded like Elizabeth would be fine, provided she just get some rest.

"Great. Thank you. In here?" He pointed, as he started to limp forwards into the building.

"Yes. And sir, they told me there was a doctor on site, treating the injured. I'm guessing he's you."

Lucas didn't feel like correcting him. He had been telling people not to call him a doctor for weeks, but he was too tired and too worried to deal with that now.

"We have a lot more injured in the wagons. Give me a moment with my friend and then I'll come help you."

The man nodded. "I'll start triaging them. Don't take too long, we need every pair of hands."

Lucas nodded back, then hopped into the building. He looked around to see five or six cots with people lying on them, and in the back left hand corner, he saw an unmistakeable head of auburn hair. He couldn't help himself, he had to smile a tiny smile. It was a massive weight off of his shoulders to know that she was alive and would be alright.

He made his way to her bedside. She didn't look too bad, all things considered. Her head injury was covered by a bandage; he couldn't see her torso, as she was beneath a thick wool blanket. The rib would cause her a fair amount of pain, and Lucas remembered that the man had mentioned having morphine. It would need to be reserved for those with the most severe injuries, so Elizabeth would probably have to make due with just whiskey as a painkiller, but he would give her something stronger once they made it home.

He smiled again looking at her, and reached out to very gently brush some hair off of her forehead. His smile did fall a bit when he noticed that her right eye was swollen and was forming a black eye, but again, it wasn't a severe injury. It would just look a little rough for a week or so.

Touching her had been a mistake though. She stirred at his touch, and her eyes drifted open. She looked at him, and he looked down at her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry to wake you. I'll leave you alone, go back to sleep. I'm just so glad you're alright." Lucas grinned lovingly at her and he could feel his eyes getting a bit misty. He was just so incredibly, overwhelmingly relieved.

But she didn't react at all. Two, then three, then four seconds went by, and her face remained complete stone. She showed absolutely no emotion or any sign of recognition, and her eyes lacked their usual brightness. She didn't speak, or make any kind of noise. Lucas's eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

"Elizabeth?"

* * *

Ned took one look at the message and sprinted out of the mercantile. He didn't even bother to close the door behind him. Hope Valley was a town where people got up early, and so several passersby gawked at him as he rushed out into the frigid morning air. He didn't quite know exactly where he should go or who he should tell, and for a minute he stopped in the middle of the road, looking around frantically. But before anyone had a chance to ask him if he was alright it occurred to him exactly who he should tell first: Nathan.

He ran up the steps of the RCMP building. He knew Nathan got up even earlier than he did so he was hopeful that he was there. He didn't knock on the door, he just went bursting in. He was relieved to see Nathan and the older RCMP gentleman who had been around town for a few days now sitting at Nathan's desk. They both held a cup of coffee in their hands and looked relaxed.

"Ned? Are you alright?" Nathan asked. He stood up and walked over to Ned, who was trying to catch his breath.

"Went...into...mercantile..." Ned stammered out. He was too out of breath and too shocked to speak clearly.

"Hey, hey, slow down. Here, have a seat." Nathan pulled up a chair and gently pushed Ned down into it. Ned sat, desperately trying to get his breathing under control. He wasn't used to such exertion first thing in the morning.

"Ned, has something happened?" Nathan asked gently.

Ned didn't say anything. Instead, he held out his hands to give Nathan the slip of paper that he had found attached to the telegraph machine just moments before. Nathan looked confused but took it and read it, then gasped and covered his mouth with one of his hands.

That got the attention of the older man. "Nathan?" He inquired.

"My God..." Nathan said quietly.

"What? What's happened?" The man bent down to look at the message. "Oh. Oh my." He said once he read it, which was about as much emotion as he ever showed.

Now it was Nathan's turn to not know what to do. So many people from Hope Valley had been a part of that caravan, and so many of them had been women. He started to run through in his head which of them he knew well - there were too many to count. And Elizabeth! Elizabeth had been one of them. It made his blood run cold.

"They should have sent you more than this. You shouldn't send a message like this without at least some kind of a list of who is dead or alive." The older man said matter-of-factly.

"They probably don't know yet..." Nathan said quietly. "Landslides take days, maybe weeks, to dig out of."

Harrison snorted in response. He clearly didn't agree.

"What should we do? I have no idea if we should even tell anyone...it's going to lead to a panic, I know it."

"Where was this caravan exactly?"

"Up in the mountains. They left six weeks ago, they must have been coming home."

"I'll gather together some of my men and we'll ride up, just give us directions. We've got plenty of mounties here who can help."

"Help with what?" A voice said from behind.

Nathan, Harrison, and Ned all turned abruptly to look at the doorway to see the source of the voice. Standing there was Jack, looking concerned.

Nathan jumped to his feet. He didn't know where Jack had come from, or what he was doing in town so early. All that he knew was that he needed to get Jack to go away, he was the last person who should be told anything about this, not until they had more information. But his heart sped up, and he tried to come up with a story fast.

"With a bit of unrest to the east. A couple of outlaws have escaped from custody and are causing trouble among some small towns." Nathan tried to say convincingly. He could feel Harrison's eyes boring holes into him at the sound of the lie.

Jack's eyes narrowed. He wasn't buying it.

Nathan didn't want to give him a chance to start asking questions. The more questions he posed, the more likely Nathan was to slip. Nathan was definitely not a good liar, as he had almost no practical experience with it.

"Harrison, I'll take five or six men and we'll ride out right now. Will you please stay here and keep an eye on things in my absence?" Nathan said. He willed himself to sound calm.

Harrison stared at him and didn't respond immediately.

"There's something you all aren't telling me." Jack said. "What? What is it? Are they close to here?" Jack's voice was getting demanding. Nathan grimaced internally at the sound of it. There was no doubt about it, Jack was still an observant mountie, despite being two years out of the serge. He was seeing right through the lie.

"They're not to the east, Thornton. They're to the west." Harrison chimed in. "He was trying not to scare you too much."

"To the west...you mean, possibly close to the caravan? Have we heard from them, are they on their way home?" Jack's voice started to take on a note of concern.

"They're delayed because of bad weather, so there's nothing to be concerned about. I told Nathan he was overreacting." Harrison said. He and Nathan exchanged a deep stare. Nathan silently thanked him for playing along.

"I want to go with you. I know I'm not a Constable, but..." Jack started to say.

"That's right, you're not a Constable, as you keep telling us." Harrison interrupted him. "You can't pick and choose, Thornton. And this is a job for mounties. They've got it well in hand, don't worry." Harrison said a little gruffer than was probably necessary. He didn't know what Nathan was doing, or why he was trying to throw Jack off the scent, but he knew Nathan wouldn't be doing it unless he had a good reason.

Jack looked down, looking somewhat embarrassed at his impertinence, then nodded. "You're sure that the caravan isn't on the move?"

"I'm sure." Harrison said. That part was true, at least, though for reasons that Jack was ignorant of.

"Jack, Nathan and I need to go over a few things before I leave. So, will you excuse us please?" Harry added. Nathan could tell what he was doing; he was getting rid of Jack by emphasizing that this was RCMP business, which Jack had no right to be a part of. It was a tough and cruel tactic, but it would most likely be effective. You could take the man out of the serge but you couldn't take the serge out of the man, and Jack would always listen to authority.

And it was successful. Jack looked a bit taken aback by the remark, but he knew in his heart that if he were in their position he'd be doing the same thing. He nodded, then moved towards the door.

Before he left, he did turn to them one last time. "Please tell me if we hear from the caravan." He said. His voice was quiet.

Nathan nodded. "We will."

At that, Jack left, closing the door behind him. Harrison immediately turned to Nathan.

"Just what the hell was that about? He would have been good to bring along!" Harrison said, sounding annoyed with Nathan, but keeping his voice down just in case Jack was still listening at the door.

"No he wouldn't have. His wife is one of the people who went with it." Nathan said quietly. He was staring off into space, as if in a trance.

Harrison's face fell as the understanding hit him. "Oh. And you lied to him because..."

"Because he's going to panic when he finds out. He would have jumped on a horse immediately. And we don't even know the condition of the road yet, or if the caravan has gotten any help, or anything. He wouldn't have listened to reason though."

"You can't keep it from him forever, you know. And you might be making it worse by lying to him."

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. And this way, I'll at least get a headstart, and hopefully get some answers. I'll at least try to put together a list of who..." Nathan's voice trailed off.

"Of who is alive and who isn't." Harrison filled in.

Nathan swallowed hard. He didn't feel very clearheaded right then either; his imagination began to run wild with possibilities. He wanted to hope for the best, but landslides were among the deadliest forces in the north, and he knew that. He willed himself to think straight and to come up with a plan.

"Alright. I'll take five men. We'll ride for the mountain road. In the direction of where the outbreak was there's only one, so we can't get lost. I just hope we can do some good. I'll try to put together as much of a list as I can of names."

"I'll stay here. And I'll try to control information getting out as best as I can, though I can't promise you anything. Sooner or later, people are going to know."

Nathan nodded. "I know. Just give me a little time. I want to keep the panic to a minimum."

Harrison nodded back. "Good luck, Nathan. And be careful out there. If there was one landslide, there could be others."

"We'll watch out." Nathan took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay. Am I forgetting anything?" He said, looking at Harrison for guidance.

Harrison tried to smile at him reassuredly. "You're forgetting your hat."

* * *

Lucas really wished he had some of his old books from school. He remembered all too well the bonfire he had built to destroy all of them. It had been only a few days after his friend's accident - a doctor had told his friend that he would never walk again, though his life wasn't in danger. His friend had cried and been consoled by his family, and Lucas, who had been present when he heard the news, quietly excused himself, walked home stonefaced, and promptly ripped the books off of his shelves, taken them into the backyard of his family's home, and torched them all. He remembered staring into the flames and vowing he would never again practice medicine of any kind. Now, he would give anything to have them back.

He tried to remember what he could about memory loss, and about head injuries in general. He knew they could run the gamut from minor to life-threatening, though Elizabeth wasn't showing any signs of the latter. She seemed healthy, in fact; she wasn't physically ill, and while she winced once or twice at the injury to her ribs she didn't display any outward signs of major discomfort. Then again, she didn't display any outward signs of much of anything.

At first, he had thought it was just normal grogginess from waking up from unconsciousness. That was normal and to be expected. People always woke up with a certain amount of confusion. But she had been awake for some time now, and she wouldn't react to anything. She didn't react to seeing Lucas, she didn't react to seeing any of the other survivors (whom she knew very well), she didn't even react to being shown any of her own belongings. She just sat there, her face completely blank, staring off into nothingness.

It was a concussion. A bad concussion. Possibly even brain damage. And she had the memory loss to go with it. It was too horrible, Lucas thought, as he thought back to Jack and all of his troubles with the exact same thing. How could two people go through the exact same experience within months of each other? How was that even possible that fate could be so cruel to one family?

Now, he was pacing. He didn't stray far from Elizabeth's side, but he needed to get up and move around, at least, as much as his sprained ankle would allow. He had absolutely no idea what to do.

"Lucas?" He heard someone say behind him.

He turned to face them. It was another member of the caravan who had survived unscathed; his name was John.

"We can't stay here for very long. We weren't the only people caught up in the landslide; locals were impacted by it too. We need to make way for them as best as we can."

Lucas didn't quite know what he was getting at. "What does that mean?"

"It means, everyone who is well enough to travel needs to keep going. We're out of harms way, it's not a difficult road back to the Valley at this point. We need to load up whomever we can and move on."

Lucas was taken aback. "We can't even rest here a day? These people are hurt, some of them seriously."

"The seriously injured can stay. But most need to move on. Not to mention, there's better medical facilities in the Valley anyway."

Lucas nodded. That much was true. But before they left, he knew he needed to do one more thing.

"I know a telegram was sent to the Valley, but it didn't have any names on it. Before we go, I need to send another, this time with a list of the living and the dead. Otherwise we're going to have dozens of panicked families back home." He could think of one family, and one man, in particular.

"Alright. There is a telegraph machine here. I'll make sure we can use it."

"Oh, we'll be using it." Lucas grumbled. He grabbed a piece of paper from a desk nearby and started writing down all of the names he knew of. There had been one mercy in all of this - very few were missing. That was pretty incredible considering that it normally took weeks to recover everyone from situations like these. He divided the paper into three sections: dead, alive, and missing. And he wrote down all the names in their appropriate sections, including his own and that of Elizabeth Thornton. His eyes grew misty when he wrote down who was deceased, particularly the girl child and the young man who had died overnight, with Lucas completely unable to help him.

He then handed the paper off to his colleague, who looked at it briefly, then gave Lucas a nod. He then ran off in search of the telegraph.

Lucas went back to Elizabeth's side and fell into a chair. He rubbed his face with his hands, then looked up into her eyes. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs dangling off of the side. She looked as blank as she did before.

He reached out and took her hands into his own, and started to rub them gently. They were scratched up from the landslide, as were his own. He looked up at her, his dark eyes brimming with tears.

"Don't worry. I'll find a way to get you out of this. You'll be home, and healthy, and back with your family, soon. I promise." He whispered to her.

She showed no signs of hearing him.

* * *

Never one for sitting around for too long, Harrison decided to call upon an old friend. He walked over to the building that Hope Valley seemed to use as its quasi-hospital. He knocked on the door a few times, and it was answered by the same light-haired woman he had seen treat Bill Avery's wounds the day before. She was noticeably cleaner than she had been the last time he saw her, as she was no longer covered in the blood of a man who had been shot, but she did not look particularly happy to see him.

"Can I help you, Major Constable?" She said curtly.

He smiled a very slight smile at her. "So, you know who I am now."

She did not return the smile. "Yes, I do. Bill was kind enough to fill me in on the goings on that have been occurring."

"So he's awake then, is he?" Harrison was glad to hear it.

"It depends on your definition of 'awake.' He's up and talking, though he should not be pressed too hard on anything." She added that last bit as a warning, as she figured Harrison was probably there to talk RCMP business.

Harrison immediately tried to reassure her. "Don't worry. All of that is over. I'm just here for a visit."

Faith didn't look at though she believed him, but she didn't have a good reason to not let him in. She begrudgingly stepped away and held the door open wider, to allow Harrison to pass through it. He removed his hat and walked in, and she closed the door behind him.

Harrison could see the edge of a cot in the next room, and he knew that was where Bill was. But before walking into that room, he turned to address Faith. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking annoyed.

"By the way miss, I didn't get a chance to tell you the other day...that was some incredible work you did on him. Remarkable. I've seen very tough men faint at the sight of such things."

She was not moved by the compliment. "Make no mistake, Major Constable, I do not enjoy digging bullets out of my friend's collarbones. I try to encourage people to take care of their health, not endanger it."

"It's all part of the job. Sometimes it's ugly and dangerous. We all know what we sign up for. And a doctor should know what she signed up for."

"I'm not a doctor. I'm just a nurse. And yes, I know I signed up for it, but...I don't have to like it."

"You should be a doctor. In a just world, you would be. Have you ever considered medical school? Some places do admit women these days."

Faith sighed. "It's crossed my mind. But no, I don't think so. I'm normally happy doing what I do. Normally." She added that last bit with her previous annoyed tone.

"Well, I can respect that. And again, damn fine job. If ever I get shot, I hope they bring me here."

She couldn't help but smile a bit at the sound of that. But she quickly wiped it off of her face, not wanting to give Harrison any satisfaction. She then gestured to the back room.

"He's in there. And again...no stressing him. He needs to rest." She said firmly.

"Yes ma'am." Harrison replied, in his "soldier" tone of voice.

He turned and walked to the back room. There, Bill was propped up in bed. He was, as Faith as said, awake-ish. He didn't appear to be particularly sharp at that moment, but he did smile a bit at the sight of Harrison.

"Not dead then, I see?" Harrison said jokingly.

"Not just yet." Bill replied. His voice sounded raspy and tired. "Anyone else hurt?"

"Nope. You took the worst of it. A couple of the mill workers have left us though."

Bill sighed. "Had been hoping to avoid that. I heard Jack and Nathan got them to surrender without anyone firing a single shot."

"Indeed. Very impressive, those two."

"Always have been. Damn shame the corps has lost Jack."

"I haven't given up on that score yet, don't worry. Though it is ultimately up to him. Can't say I blame him, honestly, if he doesn't come back."

"I don't blame him either. I don't think I'd go back after what he's been through."

Harrison sighed and looked around the room. Bill was exhausted, in pain, and suffering the effects of blood loss, but he could still tell that Harrison had something on his mind.

"Harry? Something happened?" Bill inquired.

Harrison looked down at him. He wasn't sure if he should tell him, but the fact that only he and the manager of the mercantile knew was eating away at him.

"Bill. I don't think you're going to have this place to yourself for much longer."

"What do you mean by that?"

Harrison took stock of the medical supplies that were on shelves and tucked away in cabinets all around the room. The place was well-stocked, but he wasn't sure if it was well-stocked enough.

"We got a telegram this morning. About the caravan."

"What about the caravan?" Bill pushed.

"Yes, what about the caravan?" Another voice demanded. Bill and Harrison both looked up, and Harrison was extremely frustrated to once again, see Jack standing there.

"This is the second time you've done this today. Are you in the habit of following people around?" Harrison said to Jack, his voice angry.

Jack looked equally angry. "Under normal circumstances, no. But yes, I have been following you today."

"Why?"

"You were lying. You both were lying this morning. I could tell. You're terrible liars, both of you." Jack's voice was dangerous. Low and preternaturally calm, it was the voice he used when he was at his most upset.

Bill looked back and forth between the two of them as they stared daggers at one another. Harrison didn't like being followed or treated with suspicion (even when it was deserved), and Jack didn't like being lied to.

"What about the caravan?" Jack said slowly and deliberately, his voice even lower.

Harrison paused. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

"WHAT ABOUT THE CARAVAN?" Jack suddenly shouted. His face was thunderous.

Harrison stared at him for another second, then calmly responded, "Nathan is handling it."

"Handling what? Just tell me, for the love of God."

"Jack. We received a telegram early this morning. Apparently the caravan was on its way home, when they encountered some trouble."

"Trouble from what?"

Harrison took a deep breath in and out. "There was a landslide. There have been fatalities. That's all we know right now. We weren't going to tell anyone until we knew more...that's where Nathan has gone, to try to gather more information."

Harrison could hear Bill gasp, and Jack's face twisted first into shock, then sheer panic. "How many people?"

"We don't know. We don't have any names or any kind of a count. We don't know anything. It's why we didn't want to tell you, or anyone else. We didn't want to be responsible for a panic."

Jack looked down at the floor, his eyes widening. Bill could see that his breathing had grown more labored. Bill too was shocked at the news, but he knew that this would be a particularly big blow to Jack, thanks to Elizabeth being part of the caravan.

A few moments passed, and Harrison got up and walked over to Jack. He placed his hands gently on Jack's shoulders.

"You should maybe go home and tend to your..."

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. Jack abruptly turned and ran out of the room. Harrison knew exactly what he was doing, and he ran after him.

"Thornton! Do not even think about it!" He called. Jack, who had made his way out into the street, ignored him. He was now frantically removing his horse's reins from a nearby post and prepared to jump onto its back.

Harrison grabbed him by the back of his coat collar and sternly pulled him back down. Jack turned to him angrily, almost looking like he would strike him.

"Leave me alone!" He yelled.

"You cannot go out there!" Harrison shouted back.

"The hell I can't!" Jack tried to get on his horse yet again, and yet again, Harrison pulled him down. And this time, Jack did turn to him and shove him.

"Think about what you are doing for a second. Use that brain that I know you still have! The road could be impassable for all we know. Nathan has taken five men and they're hours ahead of you. Whatever happens, you won't be able to do anything until we know more."

"I don't care, I'll catch up to them."

"No, you won't, all you'll do is ride out for no reason and probably get in the way. Trust my men, Jack, I hand-select them, they're the best, I promise."

Jack clenched his teeth. "I don't care," he repeated. "I can't just sit here. I have to go."

"Jack, you said yourself, it's not just about you anymore. You have a child who needs to be looked after. You can't just ride off whenever you feel like it nowadays. Take some responsibility for yourself and your son and use your head."

Jack was breathing hard, but Harrison's words did seem to be getting through to him. His eyes were panic-stricken and he seemed to be trying to think of a decent counter-argument to what Harrison had said, but nothing came to him. Because deep down, he knew Harrison was right. If he rode off right now, all he would do would be to arrive late and not be able to do anything. And he would be abandoning Little Jack. His place was to stay in town, at least for the time being, until they knew more.

Harrison's voice lost its ire and took on the reassuring tone it had before. "Try to stay calm, Jack. I know it's hard, but try to stay calm. I have a feeling we're going to need you before this is all over."

"Do we know anything else? Anything at all?" Jack said softly.

Harrison was about to respond when Ned came bursting out of the mercantile. He saw Harrison and Jack standing in the street, and rushed over to them. He looked briefly at Jack, then at Harrison. Harrison gave him a brief nod, indicating that the secret was out.

"We have a list. We don't know who sent it, but it's a list of names."

Jack grabbed the piece of paper out of his hands. He frantically looked it over, then visibly relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief. Clear as day, he saw the name "Elizabeth Thornton" listed under the "Alive" category.

Harrison saw it too, and he too breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at Jack and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "There. There's no way fate would have done that to you, bring you back only to take your wife from you so quickly. She's fine."

"We don't know that. She could be hurt. She probably is hurt." Jack said, again, quietly. She was alive, but now he started to think about all of the injuries that could occur as a result of landslides. Injuries to the body...and injuries to the mind. He started to pray silently that she was unhurt.

"Thornton. There are a lot of names on that list who represent the dead." Harrison could see that nearly half of the page consisted of the named of the deceased, and his voice took on a scolding tone. "She's coming home. Be thankful for that."

Jack looked up at him, and nodded. He had just experienced the scare of his life and his mind was filled with about ten thousand different emotions. He truly didn't know what to do.

"We got another message as well. Many of the survivors have started back on their way here. Those well enough to travel should be here by tomorrow afternoon." Ned chimed in.

Harrison nodded at him. "Better tell your nurse. She's going to have a lot more patients very soon."

* * *

Day eventually turned to night. Jack had briefly thought about riding out yet again, this time to try to assist the remnants of the caravan to get home, but he knew that would be selfish on his part, because he couldn't bring himself to think, or care, about anyone else but Elizabeth. Had he ridden out he would have just caused problems. He wouldn't be helpful, he would just fuss over her. And he wasn't even sure if she was among those traveling; the message had said that only people well enough to travel would be coming back. She was alive, but he didn't know anything about her condition. He tried not to think about the prospect of her being so severely injured that she couldn't be moved.

So, he just went through the motions of the day. He went home and looked after Little Jack as best as he could, but Little Jack was perceptive enough to know that something was wrong with his father. He was only two so he didn't understand the concept of asking what was wrong, but he could just sense that something was off, and he clung to his father all night. Jack was glad for the hugs. He needed them. He didn't even have the heart to put Little Jack in his own bed that night, mostly because he didn't want to go to bed alone himself. So instead, they snuggled up on the couch together in front of the fire. Little Jack fell asleep on Jack's chest, and Jack knew he wouldn't be sleeping himself, so he didn't move.

He envied his son immensely. He envied his innocence and the fact that he was completely oblivious to the world. He envied how at peace he seemed and how deeply he was able to sleep. Jack, by contrast, was a bundle of nerves, anxiety, and crushing fear. He just wanted to know, how hurt was she? Was it serious? Could she recover? Was she completely fine and all this concern was for nothing?

He tried to reassure himself. Whatever happens, happens. He would take care of her, for as long as it took to get her well. She had looked after him, now it was time for him to look after her. She was alive and that was what mattered. They would be together again soon. And this time, none of them would be leaving. Home for good, he remembered saying that to her years ago, and it had not come to pass, but this time, it truly was home for good. It would be Christmas soon, their first Christmas together as a family, and it would be wonderful. Even if she was hurt, they would all be fine. Everything was going to be fine.

Still, it didn't work. He still had a terrible feeling that bad news awaited him tomorrow. And there was nothing that Jack hated more than waiting for bad news.

And elsewhere, in a creaky wagon on a pitch black road, Lucas had the same terrible feeling. He lay wide awake, despite his fatigue, next to Elizabeth. She was wrapped in a thick Hudson Bay blanket and her head had a clean strip of gauze covering the spot where it had hit the ground. She had fallen asleep easily, which Lucas didn't find surprising. She was completely unburdened by any kind of memory or even human emotion, and as such, her soul was completely at rest. On the surface it seemed like a blessing but Lucas knew that it wasn't. In fact, it made Lucas incredibly sad to think that this person who was normally so passionate about life could be so devoid of any feelings whatsoever. She was alive, but a life devoid of feelings was no life at all. Time simply was passing for her.

Unlike Jack, he knew the truth of what was going on, but now what he was dreading was actually telling Jack the truth. How would he react when he saw Elizabeth's condition? It was eerie, the similarity between what she was now going through and what he had gone through for two years. Was this going to last for two years...or worse, longer? Was it permanent? What would that do to Jack? He had been getting better...would it set him back? Would it remind him of his own experiences and send him back to that dark place? Would he be angry? Would he scream at Lucas, why didn't you protect her? I trusted you to look after her, I left her in your care, I didn't travel because I thought she was in good hands. It made him cry silent tears, knowing that yet again, he had been entrusted with a life, and yet again, he had failed. His friend had been paralyzed. Elizabeth had severe memory loss, and who knows how long it would last. Deep within himself, Lucas began to wonder if he was cursed.

It was the longest night of both of their lives.


	19. Chapter 19

_My favorite chapter of them all._

* * *

The crowds had begun to gather the night before, despite the cold. Word traveled fast in Hope Valley, and a secret as momentous as a landslide that had claimed over thirty victims from the area wasn't something that could be kept under wraps. The list containing the names of the living, dead, and injured had been posted outside the mercantile, and the streets were soon filled with cries. Some of the cries were joyous - the families of those lucky enough to have survived. But the cries were also cries of despair. Children cried for mothers who would never return. Friends cried for friends. People embraced in consoling hugs and said prayers for the souls of those lost. And they had never left the street. Knowing the wagons carrying both the living and the dead were on their way, they remained.

Two of the mounties that Nathan had taken with him had returned. Their group had met with the wagons, and Nathan and three men remained to escort them home, while two rode back to prepare the town for what was to come. Their first stop had been to the Major Constable, who listened to them grim faced, and then they reported to Faith. She was to expect injuries. She, too, met the news grim faced, and she set about arranging her supplies. She also made herself go to sleep, since she knew she wouldn't be sleeping for days once they had arrived. Sleep didn't come naturally however, and she had been forced to use pharmaceuticals in order to make her body shut down for the night.

Now, it was noon. The day was sunny and bright, but frigid. People huddled together for comfort, both in terms of warmth and for emotional comfort. They knew the wagons couldn't be far. Some people still cried, but most were silent. In fact, the town had taken on a terrifying, eerie silence, as everyone stood around waiting.

Jack didn't want to be there. His old desire for solitude had returned with a vengeance, and he found himself having to force a fake look of kindness every time someone approached him. It took every ounce of his self control to not snap at them. He knew they remembered his old position as one of the leaders of the town, and he knew they came to him for reassurance, but he didn't have much to offer. This was a nightmare scenario and everyone knew it. He said whatever he could think of that didn't sound completely terrible, but he also kept using Little Jack's needs as an excuse to end the conversation. It was all nonsense though, Little Jack didn't need anything. He didn't even complain about the cold. It was Jack who didn't want to talk to anyone. He just wanted his wife, he wanted to know her condition, and he wanted them all to go home together.

So there he stood. Little Jack was playing with some wooden toy that Jack had brought with him, and Jack watched him absentmindedly. He was bothered though to see the Major Constable approach him. Jack tried to give him a nasty look, but it didn't put him off.

"Won't be long now." Harrison said to him. Jack just continued to glare at him.

"You know why I stopped you, Thornton."

"Just leave. Just go away." Jack responded angrily.

Harrison was not one to be put off though. "Well, you should know. You would have done the same thing, in my shoes."

"If I were in your shoes I'd do about a million things differently."

Harrison smiled a bit. "I'm sure you would. I don't pretend to be a perfect man, Thornton."

"Yes you do. That's exactly what you pretend to be." Jack placed particular emphasis on the word "pretend." He wasn't even trying to hide his rudeness.

Harrison paused for a moment, looking Jack over carefully. "You know something Thornton - the more I talk to you the more I like you."

Jack couldn't contain his sneer. "Go to hell." He growled.

"I will someday, I'm sure. But not just yet." Harrison said cheerfully. It only made Jack angrier, and he couldn't take it anymore. If Harrison wouldn't leave, then he would. He grabbed Little Jack by the hand; Little Jack made a small cry of displeasure, but Jack didn't listen. He just led him away.

He didn't get far though. He heard someone in the crowd exclaim, "Look!"

And sure enough, a creaky wagon rounded the corner, going past the graveyard. It bumped along slowly, and then another wagon, and then another, came into view behind it. There was a feeble attempt by Harrison's mounties (who were still in town, and numerous) to keep the crowds under control, but the crowds could not be held back. They rushed forward, running to the wagons, trying to get a glimpse of their loved ones.

The streets became noisy. Families were reunited and people embraced, shouting with joy. The tears flowed freely. Many of the injured couldn't move very well and their relatives tried to assist them as best as they could. Faith was among those who rushed the wagons and she began to identify people who needed help sooner rather than later; she started to shout commands, telling people where to go.

Jack didn't rush forward though. He found his feet were somehow nailed to the ground in place. Harrison still stood a few steps behind him, watching the whole scene unfold. They both watched as a sadder sight began to unfold: family members of the dead slowly approached the fourth wagon in the train, which was filled with white shrouds. Harrison glanced at a few of his mounties and gave them a quick nod, which they understood. They all went over to to wagon and gently tried to move people out of the way. The bodies would need to be unloaded, examined, and given proper identification, before they were released to their families for grieving and burial. It was cold, unfeeling work, but it was part of the responsibility of the RCMP, and they all knew it.

"MAMA!" Jack suddenly heard Little Jack shout.

Before he could stop him, Little Jack ran forward. Jack rushed up behind him and grabbed him; Little Jack shouted and struggled against his father's grasp. He began to cry, and Jack looked ahead. He could see what Little Jack had seen, and he could no longer focus on restraining Little Jack. He lost his grip on his arm, and Little Jack pulled from his grasp once again and resumed running forward. Because out of the second wagon had come Lucas, looking battered and exhausted but overall alright, and he had his arm around an equally battered looking woman with long auburn hair.

Little Jack ran. He came within feet of his mother before Lucas abruptly pulled in front of her and knelt down to catch Little Jack. Jack could see him try to pull Little Jack into a hug and he tried to talk to him, but Little Jack just struggled against him too. He wanted his mother and no one else would do. But Jack immediately could sense that there was something wrong. He stared at Elizabeth - she didn't look too bad, and he wanted as badly as Little Jack did to rush over to her and hug her, to tell her how happy he was to see her and to have her home. But why had Lucas suddenly grabbed Little Jack? And why wasn't she reacting to the sight of her son? It had been weeks since she had seen him...it wasn't like her at all to just stand there.

Lucas and Jack made eye contact, and Lucas gave him a desperate look. They were over a hundred feet away from each other and still Jack could tell what he was trying to do. Jack took a deep breath and began to walk forward. His heart was pounding with fear.

When he was only five feet away, he made eye contact with Elizabeth. She stared back at him, her eyes empty. Lucas stood up but still held onto Little Jack, who was now screaming.

"Jack..." he said. His voice trailed off.

Jack didn't listen to him. He walked forward slowly, until he was directly in front of her. Her eyes had drifted away from him, but they didn't appear to be looking at anything in particular. And it was only now that Jack noticed the white gauze on her head, covering a wound.

He reached out to touch her gently. He cupped her face with both hands and tried to turn her ever so carefully up to look at him. Which she did, and their eyes met, but she showed no recognition or emotion. Her eyes were dead and lifeless.

"Elizabeth?" He whispered. She stared back at him.

He tried to take a deep breath in, but it got caught in his chest. His chin began to tremble and tears began to fall.

"Elizabeth?" He said again. He said it firmer, as if his tone could somehow change her response. Which it didn't.

Jack began to understand. He put the pieces together. The gauze covering her forehead. The complete unresponsiveness. He knew that look, the look in her eyes. He knew what it meant. He recognized it. He had lived with that look for two years. He didn't need Lucas, or anyone else, to explain.

"No." he said, mostly to himself. "Please God, no." He said, looking down at the ground, crying in earnest.

At the sound of that, Lucas felt himself beginning to cry as well, and he couldn't contain Little Jack anymore. Little Jack rushed and grabbed his mother around her leg. Elizabeth looked down at the child gripping her, but she didn't reach down to hug him or pick him up. She just looked at him blankly.

Little Jack wanted her to hug him. He reached up his arms, in the way that he always did as an indication that he wanted her to pick him up. "Mama!" He called out. His face was joyous and he smiled a baby-toothed smile at her.

It absolutely broke Jack's heart. He reached down and gathered Little Jack into a hug. Little Jack fought him. His father wasn't who he wanted.

And standing there, watching all of this, was Lucas. Jack had forgotten about him, but he was crying almost as hard, watching this whole scene unfold. He had known all of this was coming and he had tried to prepare himself, but it was impossible. It was a horrific scene, to see a young child crying for his mother and a husband desperately reaching out for his wife, only for both of them to find an empty shell standing there.

Lucas wanted to die, for the first time in his life. Even after his friend's accident, he hadn't wanted to die. He had wanted to run away and to escape, which was why he drifted from small town to small town. But now, he just wanted to walk off into the woods and hang himself.

* * *

Nathan had arrived with the wagons, and he busied himself with caring for the dead. He and his companions had met up with the wagon train in the middle of the night along the road, and several people had recognized him immediately. They were glad to see him, as it meant that home was close by at last. It hadn't taken him long to find Lucas, who had filled him in on everything. Nathan hadn't seen him in weeks, and he now thought Lucas looked absolutely awful. The outbreak, then the landslide, had taken their toll on him. Lucas desperately needed a rest, but there was no opportunity for one and they both knew it. Nathan was going to make sure he got one though as soon as he could.

Lucas also told him about Elizabeth. She was indeed injured, her broken rib would take time to heal, but the head injury was the more serious matter. It wasn't life-threatening, but it had robbed her of who she was. Like everyone else Nathan noticed immediately the parallel between her own injury and Jack's injury, and he too had been incredulous at the cruelty of fate. He tried to keep his emotions under control, and he escorted the wagons back home after sending two men forward to give the townspeople fair warning of what was to come.

Nothing prepared him for the task that awaited him at home though. He was now in charge of identifying the dead and arranging for their examination. Faith was too busy with assisting the injured to fill out the paperwork, so it was left to Nathan. It had become a forensic investigation. He had to identify the cause of death as best as he could. But he knew all of these people. He cared for them, in his way. And every shroud lifted was another face that would haunt him.

Harry tried to help. He couldn't do very much though, besides taking the papers once Nathan was done with them and instructing his numerous mounties to clean and re-wrap the dead. The mounties tried to be as emotionless and professional as possible, but even trained RCMP officers couldn't be completely numb in a situation like this.

After a number of hours went by, there was an opportunity for Nathan to get a break. And Harry wasn't going to let the opportunity go by.

As Nathan was fussing with some filing, Harry approached him. He touched one of his shoulders.

"You've done enough for now, Nathan. You need a rest."

"There's more to do." Nathan said, trying to sound as cold and emotionally distant as possible. Harry knew it was a front.

"And it will still be here. But take a break. Go for a walk. Get some air. Maybe eat something if you can."

"That is definitely not going to happen." Nathan said under his breath. He wouldn't be eating for some time.

"Drink some water then. You're no good if you drop from dehydration. We'll have coffee when you get back. But get out of here."

Nathan wouldn't say it, but he was so incredibly grateful that Harry was here. Harry had been a father figure to him for years, for his whole life, really. He loved his own father of course, but Harry had been a steady guiding hand for as long as he could remember. And while the two would never be touchy-feely types of people, as those just weren't their respective personalities, there was so much love between them. Nathan was alive because of Harry, and he never forgot it.

Nathan allowed himself the first deep breath he had taken in nearly two days. It would have seemed insignificant to all but Harry, who knew what it meant. It was the first moment that Nathan gave himself to think about everything.

"Go for that walk, Nathan. You need it." Harry said very gently.

Nathan looked up at him. Harry could see Nathan's eyes were misty. Nathan Grant did not cry, ever. But now he was struggling to keep the tears from falling.

Harry walked to the door and opened it. He took Nathan's hat down from a hook that was hanging next to it and held it out to Nathan. Nathan lowered his eyes, trying to hide his tears. He took his hat from Harry and walked out the door, all without looking up.

* * *

Lucas couldn't understand why, but Jack had seemed grateful when Lucas had offered to help him get Elizabeth home. Lucas had been expecting a completely different reaction from him. He had thought that Jack would want to kill him. And not just as a figure of speech, he literally thought Jack would want to kill him. He had failed in his most basic duty, which was to protect her from harm. Jack had trusted him with her, and here she was, barely even alive. But Jack wasn't angry, or at least he didn't seem to be. He was just devastated.

The walk home had been dead silent for the adults, but Little Jack was crying. He couldn't understand why his mother wouldn't hold him. Again and again he reached out for her, and again and again Lucas stopped him. Lucas couldn't carry him, not with his sore ankle, but he held him by the hand and led him along. Jack had a strong arm wrapped around Elizabeth's shoulders and directed her to walk with him; she didn't fight him, but she didn't look at him either.

Once they got home, Jack fussed about. He built fires in both the fireplace and the woodstove. He wrapped her in a thick blanket and gently sat her down on the couch in front of the fireplace. She stared into the flames as he heated up the stew he had made the night before in anticipation of her arriving home. He tried to hand her a bowl of it, willing her to eat, but she didn't. She took the bowl but didn't understand what to do with it. After a few minutes went by he knelt in front of her with a spoon and tried to feed her by hand, but she wouldn't open her mouth.

Lucas didn't know what to do to help. He felt useless just sitting there. He started to think that his presence was intrusive. So, he eventually stood up and went to leave.

Jack didn't appear to hear him as he went to the door. He tried to open it as quietly as he could, so as not to disturb anyone. But before he could leave, he was confronted with the sight of Nathan walking up the road, headed for the house.

Lucas walked out the door and closed it behind him. "I don't think you should be here." He said quietly; he didn't want Jack to overhear him.

Nathan looked tired and careworn. Lucas could see the effects of the day written across his normally stern, controlled face.

Nathan sighed. "I just want to see her. I just want to know how she is."

"She's bad, Nathan. She's bad."

"How bad?" Nathan asked quietly. But just as soon as he had said it, Nathan seemed to decide that he didn't care what Lucas said. He needed to see her for himself.

"Nathan - " Lucas called after him, but Nathan ignored him and climbed the steps to the Thornton home. He knocked once but didn't wait for anyone to answer the door, and he walked in.

Elizabeth was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket. Jack was kneeling in front of her but was looking down at the floor. Their son was curled up next to his mother and appeared to be asleep, but Elizabeth wasn't showing any kind of affection towards him.

Jack looked up at Nathan, his eyes red. Nathan looked back at him with sympathy.

"Lucas told me about her on the way home." Nathan said quietly.

Lucas followed Nathan into the house and stood in the doorway, watching them all.

Jack didn't say anything and a terrible silence fell over the room. No one had any words. But then, abruptly, Lucas found his.

"I'm so sorry, Jack." He said, his voice breaking.

Both Jack and Nathan looked at him with surprise.

Lucas completely broke down. "I should have done more. I knew where we had stopped was dangerous. I knew we should keep going. But no one would listen. And I tried to stay with her, I tried to get her to safety. I did everything I could." Lucas' voice was barely comprehensible, as it was mixed with intense sobbing. Everything came flooding out of him all at once. He started to feel a bit faint, as he was hyperventilating. He reached out to steady himself on a wooden beam the was nearby.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." He was just repeating himself at this point, as he couldn't think of anything else to say.

He was so distraught that he didn't notice Jack had stood up and walked over to him. He felt a gentle pressure on each of his shoulders; Jack had placed his hands on them. Lucas looked up, even though he was terrified to think of what he would see in Jack's eyes.

But there was no malice in Jack's expression. Jack just looked sad.

"It's not your fault, Lucas. None of this is your fault." Jack said ever so gently.

The expression of sympathy just made Lucas cry harder. The events of everything were hitting him all at once. Elizabeth's injury and how he blamed himself for it. The deaths of the girl child who had been his little friend and the young man whose injuries Lucas couldn't treat. The landslide itself and how many people had been lost. The outbreak, how many of the ill he couldn't save. Even the fact that he hadn't had a proper night's sleep in weeks, which only made the emotional turmoil worse. And going back even farther, he thought of his friend, the injured friend whose paralysis Lucas felt responsible for. It all hit him. And his exhausted heart couldn't take it.

Lucas hadn't cried this hard in his life. Not even after his friend's injury had he cried like this. And the emotions were so strong that he didn't even notice as Jack pulled him gently into a hug. Lucas could feel his own shirt getting wet at the shoulders, and he knew Jack was crying too.

And as Harry had noted earlier, Nathan normally wasn't a person who cried. Jack wasn't either. Nor was Lucas. But they all found themselves in the same state at that moment: overwhelmed, both with emotion, and exhaustion. Tears fell out of Nathan's eyes as well as he thought about his dead colleagues from Hope Valley, and his dead wife and child. He couldn't stop himself - he went over to Jack and Lucas and wrapped his arms around them as well.

The three of them stood like that for a long stretch of time. They all cried, thinking of their own losses, and clung to the only people in the world that they thought would understand.

* * *

Somehow, Jack had gotten Little Jack to lie down and sleep. Little Jack was still upset, but he had slept leaning against his mother earlier, which seemed to satisfy his craving for affection to at least a small degree. Jack got him to eat a little, then put him to bed.

Nathan and Lucas were still there, but they too had fallen asleep. Nathan was on the couch, and Lucas was in a chair with his head resting on the little table Jack and Elizabeth used for meals. Jack gave up on trying to get Elizabeth to eat anything and he eventually led her up to their bedroom. Just as before, she didn't fight him, but she didn't give any reaction either. She walked slowly, still wrapped in the thick blanket, and he took off her dress so she was just in her white chemise.

He tried his best to be mindful of her injuries. Lucas had told him how she had a broken rib that had been set. Jack didn't know for the life of him how she didn't seem to even notice the pain; he had never broken one himself, but they were supposed to be so painful. As he lifted her dress over her head he was careful of the gauze covering the gash on her forehead. He also tried not to look at her black eye, since it reminded him of their early days together. About how she had had a black eye back then, and he had mocked her for it. What he wouldn't give to go back to that innocent time, a time when they were just two young people who felt drawn to one another. He would do so many things differently.

He then bent down to remove her shoes. They had holes in them. He made a mental note to buy her new ones the following day.

"Cape Fullerton."

Jack looked up, completely startled.

"What?" He said.

Elizabeth looked down at him. "Cape Fullerton." She repeated.

Jack didn't quite know how to react at first. He wasn't sure if he should be happy or not. She had spoken. He didn't know what she was trying to say though.

It took him a moment to remember all those years ago, about his original posting in Cape Fullerton. The posting he had been hoping for, and how upon their first meeting he had blamed her for taking it away from him.

It didn't make sense, but he didn't care. Something was going on inside her head. She recognized him. She wasn't completely empty.

He smiled a wide smile at her. "Yes! I was supposed to go there, many years ago. But I didn't."

"I took it away from him." Elizabeth said quietly.

Jack's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the sound of the word "him." She wasn't speaking to him directly. She was speaking of him in the third person, as if he weren't there.

"No you didn't. You didn't do anything wrong." He said, reaching out to touch her face. "You've never done anything wrong in your whole life."

Elizabeth went quiet for a moment. Her face then changed; all day it had been a complete blank slate. But now, it took on a look of extreme sadness.

"Elizabeth, don't you know me?" Jack said. His voice broke a bit but he tried to keep himself together, for her sake. She needed him to be strong. "It's me, Jack."

"Jack..." Elizabeth whispered.

"Yes! Yes, it's me." He responded back.

"...is gone." She said, not hearing him.

"No I'm not, Elizabeth. I'm right here. I'll never leave you again." It was getting harder to keep his voice steady.

"I'll never see him again." Tears were starting to fall from her eyes. "What am I going to do?" She said, her voice breaking.

Jack couldn't speak for fear of starting to cry; he just took a number of deep breaths and tried to control the sobs that wanted to form. Elizabeth had somehow gone back in time, back to two years prior, back to the early days following his supposed death. She was reliving all of that pain.

"He'll never even see his son. He doesn't know."

At the sound of that, Jack finally lost his composure. One sob did escape from his mouth. He bent his head and rested his forehead on her hands, which he held in his own in her lap. He was still kneeling in front of her.

"I've seen him, Elizabeth. I do know. He's beautiful. He's ours. We're a family." He cried.

Elizabeth didn't respond to him. She was lost in her own thoughts, and she continued to cry as she spoke to herself. "He's so much like him. And he'll never even know him."

Jack just cried. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't find the words. He wanted to shake her and make her aware of him, to bring her back to the present. He knew exactly what was going through her mind - it was all a confused, jumbled up mass of memories and feelings that didn't have any rhyme or reason to them. He remembered it and what it felt like. He hated that despite knowing how it felt, he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

He tried desperately to think of something that might jog her memory. He thought about the music box and how it had brought him back to himself, but he dismissed the thought just as quickly. It wouldn't help her, as the music box had no significance to her. It represented his path back to her, not the other way around. He thought about bringing Little Jack in again, but she hadn't reacted to him all day, so that wouldn't help. He tried to think of some object, something, that might wake her up from her slumber. But there was nothing. She was awake, and yet sleeping. She was caught in between two worlds.

His own uselessness just made his despair worse. All he could do was cry into her hands.

* * *

Jack was right about one thing: Elizabeth's mind definitely wasn't empty. In fact, it was completely the opposite. While Jack's experience with memory loss had been one involving a complete absence of anything of significance for two years, Elizabeth had been going through now four day's worth of complete internal madness. She had memories, she just didn't know what they were, who they involved, or whether or not they were even her memories. Her lack of reaction to anything going on around her wasn't the result of emptiness so much as it was her not being able to take in new experiences until she had made sense of the old ones swimming around in her head.

It was pitch black outside, and yet she was wide awake. The kind man who hadn't left her side all day had cried for a long time, and she wanted to comfort him, but she couldn't bring herself to. He had said the word "Jack" to her earlier, and the sound of it made her both sad and happy at the same time. It must have had some significance to her, but she didn't know what it was. He had eventually laid her down in bed, pulling warm blankets over her, then kissed her forehead and told her he loved her and that they would get through this together. She didn't know what "together" entailed, or what exactly it was that they had to get through. He then sat down in a chair next to her bed and she watched him as he silently cried himself to sleep.

She wasn't sure who this man was. She wasn't sure who the men were who were downstairs either. She didn't know who the child was who kept clinging to her. But they all seemed familiar to her in some way.

Without even realizing what she was doing, at some point in the late hours of the night, she abruptly sat up. She looked around the small bedroom. There were trinkets and framed pictures and drawings. And she saw the kind man, still asleep in his chair.

She swung her legs out from under the covers, put them on the floor, and stood up. The floor creaked a bit under her weight but it wasn't loud enough to wake him up.

_You're my life. You are everything to me._

It was an echo. She heard it as she looked at the kind, sleeping man. An echo of something that someone had said to her, long ago. Was he the one who had said it to her?

Something compelled her to walk. She took a few quiet steps towards the door and opened it. She looked back at the man one last time, then walked out of the room. She then slowly descended the stairs, looking around at the house. She saw the tall dark haired man asleep on the table and the man in the red jacket asleep on the couch. The fire in the fireplace had all but died, it was now just mere glowing embers. The house was cold as a result, but she didn't really notice. Cold didn't have much effect on her.

_Good morning, Mrs. Thornton._

Another echo. It was the same voice as before. Mrs. Thornton...who was that? Was that herself?

Still, she felt the need to keep walking. She walked past the sleeping men until she reached the front door. Without even realizing what she was doing, she opened it. Outside, it was a beautiful, clear night, though there was a light dusting of snow on the ground, the result of a few snow showers that had passed overhead in the last few hours. There was no sign of them now though. Now, the sky shone with a million bright and beautiful stars.

She walked outside. Her bare feet were cold; in fact, her whole body was cold. But again, she didn't notice. It was like she wasn't even occupying her own body, she felt like she was observing it from outside of it.

And she continued to walk. She walked along the cold, dark dirt road. And there were more echoes, not sounds this time, but rather faces. She saw a kindly looking blonde woman, maybe ten to fifteen years older than she was, who smiled at her. Elizabeth looked at her and somehow, she could smell the wonderful aroma of baked goods. That woman must have been a phenomenal cook, and possibly a close friend.

Her walk eventually brought her to a small town. Its wooden buildings were simple, there was nothing fancy about this place, but it was beautiful. She saw one building labeled "Royal Canadian Mounted Police," and she saw another face in her mind. It was the man from earlier, the man asleep on the couch. He was a stoic, serious looking figure, wearing a red jacket, his brown boots shining to perfection. He held a cup of coffee in his hands and looked back at her not unkindly. He didn't exactly smile, but he didn't look unapproachable either.

_I'm inquisitive. I ask questions. It's part of who I am._

She looked to her right, and there she saw another building. It had two swinging doors in the front of it. She thought it might be some kind of bar. No, bar wasn't the right word - saloon. That's what it was. A saloon. And again, there was another face. The man asleep at the table. He was tall, impeccably dressed, rogueishly handsome, and had a devilish grin on his face. He was picking up crates that were filled with bottles and bringing them inside; she could hear their contents clanking against one another. When he saw her, he smiled and winked.

And there was something else about this building too. She saw children running into it, carrying slates and books. They looked like they were on their way to school, but if that were the case, why were they going to the saloon? It was preposterous, school inside of a saloon.

She didn't stop walking. She passed a building with a sign that read, "Abigail's Cafe." She saw the same blonde woman from before and could smell the same aroma of scones and muffins. She thought about how inviting it looked, how warm, how cozy. It seemed like a wonderful place to pass the time with friends and family.

_Please do consider this an act of courtship._

Still she walked. One more building came into view. It appeared to be a church. She stopped in front of it for a moment, as this building seemed to hold particular significance to her. Was it a church? She again thought she saw children running into it with their school supplies. And she could have sworn that she heard the most ridiculous sound in the world, the sound of a cowbell. Schools were supposed to have proper bells, not cowbells. It made her laugh though. She thought about how it seemed lovely that a school wouldn't take itself so seriously.

She had paused for a moment, but she wasn't done walking. Something else was calling out to her. She saw a path leading into the forest, and she felt like she had to take it. Where it led, she didn't know. But her heart told her to keep going.

_I don't want to be engaged. I want to get married. Build a house, start a family._

The same voice. More echoes. She heard them as she walked.

The path sloped upwards and became rocky. She could feel it cutting into her bare feet. But the wind started to blow from behind her, as if some force of nature were trying to help her up the hill, pushing her to go on.

She didn't know how long she climbed, but she eventually came to a clearing. And in the center of the clearing, she saw a cabin. The moon was full that night and so it was clearly visible, bathed in silvery light.

It was a beautiful building. It looked new, and it had obviously been built by someone very experienced. It wasn't overly complicated, but it wasn't a one-room hut either. It had porches wrapping all around it, facing both east and west.

_We'll be able to see the sunset._

She took one step, then another, towards the cabin. She approached the front door and reached out to turn the doorknob. The door wasn't locked and it yielded to her, swinging open with a creak. She paused for a moment, then walked in.

It was even more beautiful on the inside. Again, it was nothing fancy, but it was meticulously decorated. It had an enormous stone fireplace and cozy rugs were strewn about. The wood floor was polished and shining. There was a big, inviting sofa that was just crying out for people to curl up and snuggle in it. There were multiple rooms that she could see, and she wanted to explore them all.

But before she could wander about, she noticed a large wooden table. It had been built in a rustic style, but was sturdy and could seat at least ten. It made her smile to think about all of the meals that would be shared around it, and all of the friends and family who would laugh and converse while seated there. She also noticed that on the table was a very large leather-bound book and pieces of graphite resting next to it. Drawing materials.

She walked up to the table and opened the book. She was surprised to see that the first drawing was of herself. She looked serene and beautiful; it was a flattering portrayal. It was also very detailed. The artist, whoever he or she was, was incredibly talented.

She turned the page. The second drawing was another of her, but this time, she looked angry. She also looked younger and somehow a bit more naive. Her hands were on her hips, and she stared out from the page crossly, as if she were staring back at the artist as he drew her with the knowledge that she didn't like him.

The third picture was of a little boy. A tiny, fair haired boy, smiling. There were in fact multiple drawings of this little boy, of him looking happy, and sad, and angry, and appearing to throw a tantrum, and one of him playing with toys. Some of the drawings were detailed, others had been done in haste. This little boy was a popular subject to the artist.

She kept turning the pages, and she kept seeing faces and locations that she recognized. The cafe, saloon, and RCMP building from earlier. The blonde, kind faced woman. An older man, also blonde, who appeared to be maybe in his late fifties. The serious man in his red serge jacket. The man in front of the saloon, looking impish. There was a very cute, very fat looking basset hound, lying lazily in front of a woodstove. There was also another older woman, dark haired and very tall; Elizabeth hadn't seen her around town but she knew she recognized her from somewhere. She could practically feel the woman's wild spirit jumping off of the page - again, a sign of the artist's great talent. Then, another dark haired man who appeared to be approximately her age, maybe a little younger. He was somebody's brother, she knew that much, but she didn't know whose exactly. Her brother? Someone else's brother? She didn't know.

And then, she turned the page once more, and stopped. There, she saw a drawing of the kind man from earlier, the one who hadn't left her side.

It was a raw, ugly picture. He was in a slumped position. There were bags under his eyes and deep wrinkles around his mouth. He looked exhausted and worried. He also looked terribly thin, with prominent and gaunt cheekbones and a visible sternum poking out from beneath his partially unbuttoned shirt. And she could see something else in the drawing. One hand was draped across his lap, but the other was pulling his hair away from his face to reveal a deep scar on his head. She hadn't noticed the kind man having any kind of scar, but then again, maybe it wasn't visible unless you did as this man did, and pulled the hair out of the way.

She began to think this might be a self-portrait. It dawned on her that the kind man from earlier may be the artist himself. But she was heavily featured in this sketchbook, and she didn't know why. She also didn't know why he would draw himself looking so terribly. The kind man was strong and healthy, and very handsome. It wasn't an accurate portrayal of him at all.

"Nice shiner."

Elizabeth jerked her head around. And standing six feet away from her, she could see a figure dressed in crimson red serge. But it wasn't the man who called himself Nathan. No, this person looked a lot like the kind man, the one who called himself Jack. He wasn't quite the same though; this person was younger, maybe by seven or eight years, and was a bit more clean cut and tidy looking. His face didn't have any of the kind man's maturity. He wasn't a boy, but he wasn't quite a man either. He also had an extremely nasty look on his face. She didn't know why, but the kind man who called himself Jack was always tender and gentle with her, and never left her side. This person, by contrast, obviously despised her.

He began to walk towards her. She was completely frozen in place. The only sound was the clicking of his immaculately polished boots on the wood floor as he took one step, then another, moving agonizingly slowly. When he finally reached her, he leaned in closer, until his face was just inches away from hers. She stared back at him, wide-eyed. At last, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Got those bags packed yet?"


	20. Chapter 20

_This is the second-to-last chapter. One more to go after this._

* * *

Lucas' eyes drifted open. He could see through a window that it was still very early, the sky only had the faintest hint of navy blue in it, indicating that the sun still wouldn't be up for at least another hour. He shivered and pulled the blanket he was wrapped in closer. The house was freezing. Jack must have let the fire in the woodstove die last night.

He yawned and decided that it would be good for someone to get it going again. It wasn't healthy for Elizabeth to be in such cold conditions. The night before, Jack had eventually given up trying to get her to eat and had taken her upstairs, saying he wanted her to get some sleep. Lucas and Nathan had both agreed, and they stayed downstairs talking quietly between themselves, neither one wanting to leave. They knew they probably should go, Nathan had mountie business to get back to and Lucas figured he could be helpful to Faith with the injured, but they were both just so emotionally spent. So, they chatted, mostly about how awful they felt for the Thorntons and about how cruel it was that they couldn't seem to find any peace. Eventually, they both dozed off. Lucas could see that Nathan was still asleep on the couch.

But, before tending to the fire, Lucas decided he wanted to check on Elizabeth and Jack. The stairs creaked ever so slightly as he walked up them, but he took tiny steps, trying to make as little noise as possible. He peeked into the nursery; Little Jack was there, sound asleep. Lucas then slowly and quietly turned the doorknob leading to Jack and Elizabeth's room. Opening the door slightly he could see Jack asleep in a chair next to the bed. Lucas had to smile a bit as he thought of how much Jack would regret that sleeping position. He would wake up with a very sore neck. He was happy though that Jack had managed to get at least some sleep. He was going to need it, as Elizabeth would need around the clock care for the foreseeable future.

But then, Lucas's eyes instantly got wider. Losing all of his previous stealth, he pushed the door open and it banged on the wall behind it. He then immediately rushed over to Jack and shook him hard.

"Jack! Jack, wake up!"

Jack awoke with a start. He reached up and rubbed his eyes with one hand.

Not waiting for Jack to say anything, Lucas said loudly, "Where's Elizabeth?"

Jack looked over at the bed. The sheets were pushed back. It was empty.

He stumbled to his feet. "Elizabeth?" He called. They both rushed out of the room, running down the stairs. "Elizabeth?" Jack called again, but there was no sign of her anywhere in the house.

Jack burst through the front door. "Elizabeth!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. He looked around frantically. Lucas was right behind him, also yelling Elizabeth's name.

The commotion woke up Nathan. He too was on his feet in an instant, and he rushed over to Lucas for an explanation.

"Lucas! Lucas, what's happening?"

"Elizabeth is gone." Lucas responded, panic stricken.

Before either of them could stop him, Jack had taken off running. Lucas called out to him but he didn't turn around, so Lucas and Nathan ran after him. Lucas' ankle was still in bad shape but he forced himself to limp after them. Nathan tried to keep pace with Jack, but couldn't. Still, he could see where Jack was going: he was headed for the center of town, and it didn't take him long to get there. There were no people anywhere, as it wasn't even dawn yet, and there was absolutely no sign of Elizabeth.

And he kept screaming her name. Lucas and Nathan could hear the panic in his voice.

Jack was running back and forth between buildings, opening every door that wasn't locked. He ran into the saloon, then into the RCMP office. He burst into the medical facility, which woke up Bill. Bill didn't even have time though to realize who had entered before Jack ran out again.

Nathan finally caught up with him. Lucas was hobbling behind, but he was within sight distance as well. Nathan reached out and caught Jack by the shoulders, stopping him from going any further.

"Jack! Jack, you need to calm down." Nathan shouted at him. Jack was completely out of breath, both from running and from sheer terror. He bent over at the waist, trying desperately to catch his breath.

"It's freezing and she doesn't know where she is. She could be anywhere...she could have been outside for hours." Jack said, his voice pure anguish.

"It's alright, Jack. We'll find her. We'll find her." Nathan said, trying to make himself sound as calm and collected as possible. "It's going to be alright."

Nathan didn't know what to do. He wouldn't say it, but Jack wasn't wrong; she was probably lost somewhere, and the temperature had definitely dropped below zero the night before. It didn't feel much warmer than that now. It could be very dangerous for someone to be outside in the cold like that for an extended period of time, and he guessed she probably didn't have a coat or any warm clothing on. She had no sense of direction, nor did she recognize any of the buildings in town. If she had wandered off somewhere, it could be very difficult to find her.

He tried to think of anywhere that she might go. She wasn't in the RCMP office, and it seemed like Jack had checked the saloon and any other buildings.

"Did you check the school?" Nathan asked. Jack looked at him, then took off running towards it. Nathan followed him, and Lucas tried to as well. Lucas knew his ankle wouldn't take much more of this though.

The brief glimmer of hope though was dashed as they all ran inside. The school was dark, cold, empty, and silent. She wasn't there.

Jack was distraught at this point. Lucas tried to reach for him to calm him down, but he wasn't going to listen this time. So Lucas and Nathan could do nothing but watch him as he began to pace back and forth, head in his hands, his breath frantic. He had completely shut down, beside himself with fear and angry at his own carelessness in not watching her, and there was no getting through to him.

Lucas and Nathan looked at each other, each one trying to think of anywhere, anywhere she might have gone. Lucas thought about the places in town that may have held significance for her, places that a deep memory that she didn't quite understand might have inspired her to visit. He thought about the saloon, where she had first taught the children, but they had checked that. He thought about the RCMP office, and all of its memories associated with Jack, but they had checked that too. He thought about the school, but they were standing in it, and she wasn't here. He was about to suggest going to check the prayer circle that was out in the woods, or maybe Abigail's cafe, when something occurred to him.

"Your cabin. The one you've been building. She may have gone to your cabin." Lucas said.

Jack was running in an instant, crashing through the doors. And again, Nathan and Lucas ran after him.

They couldn't keep up though. Jack was running like a man possessed. And now that he was completely back to full strength and full physical fitness, Lucas and Nathan didn't have a chance at maintaining his pace. They fell behind, but didn't stop.

Jack's shoes crunched on the frozen ground. His breath was visible in front of him, a frozen cloud of white vapor. The cold burned his throat and lungs and made him wheeze. His heart was beating so fast it felt like it might explode. Were the situation at all different he would have long since lost consciousness from a lack of oxygen, but he willed himself to keep running. The ground began to slope upward, as he had reached the hill that led to the plot. The road had narrowed to be just a mere trail, and a couple of times he stumbled over tree roots that stuck up out of the ground. He fell once, but heaved himself back up to standing and immediately started running once more.

He was about halfway up the hill when he caught a glimpse of something. There was very little light so he could barely make it out, but he could see standing at the top of the hill a kind of spectral figure. It was a woman, dressed in white, looking down at him. For a brief moment, Jack thought it was a ghost, and he stopped running. His eyes widened and he breathed heavily through his mouth as he looked at her. But she couldn't have been a ghost; he could see her breath as well. She didn't move though, she just stood there, looking right at him.

It took him a moment to realize that it was Elizabeth. But as soon as he did, he experienced a sudden onslaught of emotion. His eyes filled with desperate tears, and his voice made noises that weren't quite sobs, but they were just sounds of joy, relief, and leftover anguish all mixed together. He took off running yet again. She moved towards him as well, though she was barefoot and shivering and couldn't move quite as well as he could.

When they met, he smothered her in an embrace. He held her so tightly that she lifted off of the ground; and he could feel her holding him as well. In fact, she held him so tightly that he felt his back curling backwards from the force. And they were both sobbing and crying tears of raw emotion.

He then released her and grabbed her by the arms, pulling her in front of him so that he could look at her face.

"How could you do this to me! How could you!" He shouted at her through his tears. He had no idea what he was saying. He knew she was too fragile for this, he shouldn't be acting this way. He had tried so hard to be gentle with her in an attempt to get her to trust him, and he was undoing all of that now. And he was shouting from a place of relief, not anger, but he knew that was not how it would appear. He would come across as a madman, except that this wasn't 'head injury' Jack talking, the Jack who was completely unable to control even basic thoughts and feelings, as that Jack was long gone at this point. By disappearing she had given him the biggest scare of his life. This was a reaction that Jack would have had no matter what the conditions.

Elizabeth couldn't respond, all she did was look at him and cry. And then she held his face in her hands, looked him in the eye, and said, in a voice that was barely comprehensible thanks to her sobs, "I remember. I remember." She repeated it over and over again. "I remember."

He pulled her towards him and wildly and powerfully kissed her multiple times. He then crushed her in another hug. They fell to the ground, no longer able to stand, but still entangled, refusing to let go of one another.

* * *

Lucas reached down and rubbed his ankle. It was still a bit swollen, but it had improved tremendously over the course of the past week. He was now walking almost normally. He smiled, then reached for the thick brace he had been using and started to put it back on. He would probably only have to wear the brace for another couple of days.

He heard a knock on the door. "Come in," he called, and in walked Nathan, looking rather smug.

"What are you so happy about?" Lucas said.

"I get to go on a trip. And arrest some very bad men. It's going to be fun." Nathan responded devilishly.

His tone made Lucas smile. Nathan had seemed a lot different recently. He had seemed so much more outgoing than Lucas had ever seen him before. Lucas wasn't back managing the saloon just yet but he did settle back into his old room, and he saw Nathan at the bar many nights in a row, chatting with people. Nathan never drank, and Lucas figured he was a teetotaler, but he seemed to be enjoying the company, which he hadn't done before. And the man who Lucas had learned was a Senior Constable named Harrison Porter (who Nathan called "Harry") was by his side most nights. They were quite the pair, those two. If Lucas didn't know that they weren't related he would have thought them to be father and son.

"Well, you enjoy that. Why are you telling me, though?" Lucas responded.

"Because I need a favor from you. Harry is going with me, and he's going to try to convince Jack to come along too."

"Yeah, good luck with that." Lucas responded. Jack most certainly would not be going with them. He hadn't been more than three feet away from Elizabeth ever since she had recovered her memory about two weeks prior. More than once he had overheard Elizabeth practically shouting at Jack about it, saying he was driving her crazy, but Jack completely ignored her pleas for him to leave her alone.

"Yes, we know, he's going to take some convincing. Which is where you come in."

Lucas stopped wrapping his ankle and sat up. "Don't follow."

Nathan smiled at him. "He listens to you. So we thought you might be able to help persuade him."

"You're kidding, right?"

"The RCMP doesn't allow kidding." Nathan said in his most serious tone of voice.

Lucas smirked a bit. "Well, I don't know where any of you got that idea, but Jack won't listen to me anymore than he listens to you. In fact, he'd probably listen less."

"Just come with us. What do you have to lose."

Lucas sighed, then got to his feet. "Alright. But this is a waste of time. And anyways, you two should really leave them alone. They've been through enough, it's time to give them some peace and quiet."

"Generally I agree. But Jack might be particularly interested in this one."

Lucas held up his arms in a mock-surrender, then gestured for Nathan to lead the way. Nathan smiled a bit, then led Lucas outside, where the Major Constable was waiting.

"Good! He got you to come along. Glad to hear it." The Major Constable said in a booming voice.

"What did you say your name was again? Harry?" Lucas inquired.

The Major Constable's face instantly turned coarse and angry. "Harrison. Or Major Constable." He only allowed close friends and family to call him Harry. Anyone else trying to do it was completely unacceptable.

"Right. We'll go with Harrison." Lucas said with a sigh.

The three men then made their way to the Thornton house. Nathan gently rapped on the door, and Elizabeth instantly opened it. Looking in, they all could see Jack sitting in a chair, with Little Jack on his knee.

"Visitors! Excellent!" She exclaimed. "Please, come in, come in!" She happily gestured that they should all enter.

Nathan and Harrison removed their hats and they all walked in, smiling at her as they passed.

"You seem happy to see us, Mrs. Thornton." Harrison said to her.

"When you're under house arrest, visitors are an incredible luxury." She replied, which made Harrison, Nathan, and Lucas chuckle. Jack's recent overprotectiveness seemed to be causing a bit of tension in the Thornton household. Harrison glanced over at Jack, who looked annoyed by Elizabeth's comment.

"You look wonderful, Elizabeth." Lucas said to her. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jack give him a slightly dirty look but he didn't care.

"Thanks to you." She said graciously.

"Thanks to him?!" Jack chimed in from behind her.

"I meant, thanks to his medical efforts." She said, turning to glare at Jack. And it was true, Lucas had visited almost every day since her memory had returned. Every day he cleaned her head wound and changed the bandage, and checked to make sure her broken rib was healing. He also made sure that she was getting plenty of fresh air and exercise. Jack had objected to that, constantly insisting that she needed rest, which wasn't entirely wrong either, but if it were up to Jack she wouldn't be allowed outside for about five years.

Lucas smiled at her. "And how are you feeling today?" He asked.

"Smothered." She said under her breath, not looking at Jack. Everyone in the room knew what she meant. Including Jack himself.

"Do you blame him, Elizabeth?" Nathan said with a smile.

"All I'm saying is, standing guard while I use the privy might be overdoing it."

"Hey. I haven't done that for a few days." Jack said.

"Because I threatened to divorce you if you didn't." She spat in his direction.

"Which wasn't a very nice thing to say." He spat back.

Lucas, Nathan, and Harrison were all very amused, and they stayed silent during this marital tiff. If there was one thing that Elizabeth and Jack had always done well, even from the day they first met, it was argue.

Elizabeth glared at Jack and he glared back. But then, she remembered their guests, and turned back to them and smiled sweetly. "Anyway gentlemen, I apologize for my husband's rudeness." (Jack grumbled.) "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Actually ma'am, you're not going to be very happy with us when you find out." Harrison said, his voice taking on an apologetic tone. "We've come to steal your husband away, just for a couple of days."

Elizabeth looked confused, but before she had time to say anything, Jack responded, "No. Absolutely not."

"You haven't even heard what we're planning to do." Nathan said.

"I don't care. I'm not interested."

"At least hear them out, Jack." Lucas said quietly.

"And just where do you fit in in all of this?" Jack demanded of Lucas.

"Good question." Lucas said under his breath, glancing at Nathan.

Nathan ignored him. He cleared his throat. "You see Jack, the Major Constable and I are off to a town that I think you may be familiar with. A town called Silverton. I trust that, despite your previous memory issues, that that name will ring a bell."

Jack didn't respond, but Nathan could tell by the look on his face that he was very aware of what that name was.

"We've found very clear evidence of corruption involving the Constables posted there. We have more than enough proof to arrest them and send them for trial. And we thought that, since you had a particular history with these people, that you might want to come along."

Jack's jaw clenched. "I'm not a Constable. I don't have any right to be there." Jack almost sounded disappointed.

"True, but, you wouldn't be going in any official capacity. You wouldn't even have to say anything. You would be there purely as backup, and as an observer."

Jack snorted. "There's no such thing as an observer with situations like that. You're bringing me because you think I'll enjoy it. Because you think I want revenge."

Harrison and Nathan had to struggle to control their smiling. Jack had once again seen through their lie. Once a Constable, always a Constable.

"Well, don't you?" Harrison said, after a pause.

Jack stared at him. He felt like this was a trick question.

"No. I don't."

Harrison now smiled a tiny smile at him. "Now who's lying, Jack?"

Jack looked annoyed. He knew he wasn't any better of a liar than any of they were, but that didn't mean he enjoyed having it pointed out to him.

"Look, Jack." Harrison's voice was serious again, and his smile was gone. "I've told you multiple times that if you don't want to come back, if you're out of the red for good, then that's fine. We can't force you. But I do want you to know this: if you do come back, you'd be under my direction, the same way that Nathan here is. I hand-pick my Constables, and I assure you, I do not make the choice lightly."

A silence fell over the room. Jack appeared to have enough respect for the Major Constable to know that what he was saying represented a great honor. Jack wasn't sure if he liked him personally, but there was no denying that he had come to admire him.

A few awkward moments went by. Then, to the surprise of everyone, Lucas spoke up.

"I actually think this might be a good time to tell all of you something." He said. Everyone in the room turned to look at him.

He made eye contact with Jack. "I've come to a decision. I'm going to return to Edmonton, to finish my medical degree."

Everyone looked shocked, but Elizabeth was the first one who went from shocked to happy. "Lucas! That's wonderful!" She said. She went over to hug him; he hugged her back.

When he looked around the room, he saw that Nathan was beaming. The Major Constable looked confused, as he didn't know Lucas' whole story, but he figured that there was some significance to this declaration that Nathan would fill him in on. And Jack also looked happy. He wore a very small smile.

"Good for you, Lucas." Jack said quietly. His irritation with the Major Constable and Nathan had evaporated.

"Yeah. I never thought I would, I really didn't. But...it just feels right now, for some reason. After everything that's happened. I still...that is, I'm sure I'll have bad days here and there, but...I just think I'm ready. To move forward. Or try to move forward, anyway." Lucas said.

"And so you should. Because you are ready. I have no doubt." Elizabeth said gently.

Jack wasn't looking at him anymore. His face had taken on a serious look now and he was looking down at the floor. Jack was clearly thrown by Lucas' surprise declaration, and it got him thinking. Thinking about things that he never would have considered even an hour ago.

And Nathan could tell. '_Thank you, Lucas._' He thought to himself. '_I knew it was a good idea to bring you along._'

* * *

"I remember him now. I remember Joshua Miller."

Elizabeth looked up from her book. It was nighttime and she was curled up under the blankets, trying to unwind after yet another day of Jack hovering over her. It stressed her out but she knew his heart was in a good place, and that he was only doing it out of love. Still, it was annoying, especially since it had been two weeks since her recovery. He was going to have to back off at some point.

She watched him as he walked to the side of the bed. He sat down in a chair, then reached out to gently touch her hand.

She hadn't asked him about anything related to the rockslide lately. Before her own dealings with memory loss, she had been horribly curious about what it was like. She resisted asking only because she didn't want to upset him. But now she felt like she didn't need to. She knew exactly what he had gone through, about the confusion and fear that took over. She didn't want to remind him of it, nor did she want to relive her own experience.

But now, Jack seemed like he almost wanted to talk about it. She book a bookmark in her place and set her book aside, then took his hands in hers.

"Tell me about him, Jack." She said gently.

"He was a good kid. I talked with him a lot. And he was originally from Hope Valley. He actually kept calling it Coal Valley, since that was the name when he was born and it was changed after he left. His father got sick with the miner's lung disease and couldn't work there anymore, so he packed up his family and moved them to Silverton, to work with the loggers."

Jack continued. "He was successful there at first, but it didn't last long. The lung disease progressed and soon he was bedridden. His wife had died years before of fever, Josh told me, and there were no uncles or other extended relatives to help. The family began to starve."

"But then Josh figured out how to steal. And he figured out that he was good at it, with a little practice. He would steal food, and sometimes cash from cash registers, though he was careful to never take too much as to raise alarm. And he said he never hurt anyone."

"An honest thief," Elizabeth said in a half joking manner. Jack smiled and replied, "Yes, yes he was."

He kept going. "But as he got older and his brothers and sisters found their own security, he had trouble stopping. His father died. He had never learned to do anything else, so he kept stealing. It was the only way he knew how to support himself. And support his family." Jack's voice trailed off with that one.

Elizabeth was surprised. "His family?"

Jack got a look on his face that indicated the story was getting harder to tell. Not because of memory issues, but because of emotions.

"Yes, he had a family. He had married and he had a baby son. And he told me that when his son was born, he vowed to change. He didn't want his boy to grow up with a Pa who only taught him thievery. He wanted to be a good example for him. So, he decided to enlist in the RCMP."

Elizabeth was beginning to make the connection. "He enlisted, and he was sent on the training mission with you?"

"Yes. And he was always the best, always. I would tell them to run a mile, and he'd run it twice. We'd build wilderness shelters and his would be the sturdiest. We'd clean our rifles and he was done in the shortest time."

Jack looked down and the muscles in his jaw clenched. Elizabeth knew they were reaching the part of the story that involved the rockslide.

"One day, there was terrible weather. It was pouring rain, and I hadn't been paying attention to where we were, so by the time I realized it, I knew we were in a lot of trouble. We were in a dangerous area. I knew we needed to get down from those hills because there was too great a chance of..." his voice trailed off and he remained silent for a long time.

"Keep going, Jack," Elizabeth said gently.

"But the day before, we had done an orienteering exercise, and one recruit still hadn't come back. Gregory Dietrich."

Elizabeth knew that name. It was the other name the RCMP had told her Jack was responsible for saving. The other man that Jack supposedly pushed out of the way of the rocks.

"We realized this, and we knew we needed to go out and search for him. But we moved too quickly. We didn't do things by the book because we thought the conditions were worsening and we didn't have time to do all of our checks. And...accidents occurred with people's uniforms. They got mixed up. The wrong people were wearing other people's shoes or gloves, or...the wrong coats. Coats that had people's identity tags attached to them."

Elizabeth felt a lump form in her throat.

"So we went out looking for him. And of course, Joshua was the one to find him. He had gotten lost in just about the worst possible area, an area covered with huge boulders and loose soil. It made me so nervous, and he knew we had to get out of there immediately. But on our way down the mountain...we started to hear rumbling."

Elizabeth squeezed his hands. He had lowered his head to hide his eyes, but she knew he was crying.

"It was so fast, Elizabeth. It felt like less than a second. I thought I was dead. I tried to run, but there's no escaping that kind of thing, it's faster than any human being could ever be. And just as I felt the flood bearing down on me, I felt myself shoved to the left, and then I fell down a small hill. I fell into Gregory, and we both landed outside the main flow of the rocks. The last thing I recall is not a rock hitting me from behind, but from below."

Jack then clenched a fist as if it were a rock and held it up to his head, right where his scar was. "The rockslide didn't get me at all. I landed on a rock that was embedded in the ground off to the side, and it split my skull open. Gregory was fine. But Joshua...he was crushed, beyond all recognition. He saved us, and he wasn't even given the right name in death."

This was heartbreaking to Elizabeth, but it did lead her to wonder, "But why didn't Gregory identify you as yourself and Joshua as himself?"

"I don't think he knew Joshua very well. He knew what I looked like of course, but he was in shock from the experience so when the RCMP told him that I had died and Joshua had lived, I don't think he was in a mental state to question it. It all happened so fast, it was lightning. And the RCMP office in Silverton somehow didn't think it necessary for him to go to the hospital where I was and confirm that I was Joshua. They figured since they had the ID tags, that was enough." Jack said this in a very dark tone.

Elizabeth was so sad for poor Joshua, but so happy as well. They finally had their explanation as to what happened and how they ended up where they ended up. An act of God with the rockslide combined with an act of heroism on Joshua's part, and incidence after incidence of negligence on the part of the RCMP in Silverton.

Still looking down, Jack said, "Someone at the RCMP needs to be held responsible for all of this." Clearly he had been thinking the same thing about the negligence. "Yes, we were wearing the wrong coats, but the tag isn't supposed to be the only form of identification, especially in a time where remains are rendered unrecognizable. And this doesn't even get into the issue with my belongings never being returned to me, and worst of all, Joshua's family not ever being contacted."

That one Elizabeth didn't comprehend. "What do you mean?"

Jack let go of her hand and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket with a pained sigh. He unfolded the paper. It was a list of names - the recruits that had been registered for service with the RCMP and brought on that trip. This wasn't the copy that the Silverton office had on file, this was the copy that had been sent to RCMP headquarters. This was the official copy as far as the RCMP was concerned. Jack pointed his finger at one line in particular, and Elizabeth leaned in for a closer look.

"Joshua Milton," it read. Not Joshua Miller. They had sent the wrong name. It was incorrect in the official document, and since RCMP headquarters was responsible for communicating with widows and other family members, the trail had gone cold.

Another catastrophic mistake. It was getting astonishing to Elizabeth that so many mistakes could have been made by the same RCMP office.

"Where did you get this?" She asked with shock.

"From Nathan. I went to visit him while you were napping earlier today. He told me more about the Constables in Silverton, and what they had found out about them."

Elizabeth was disgusted.

"And there's actually just a little more. You see, all of the recruits signed up in Silverton, it was a regional training event. The Silverton office was responsible for getting my belongings back to me, or rather, not getting them back to me. The Silverton office was also responsible for the horrible practices when it came to identification of dead recruits. It all goes back to them."

Jack didn't add this because it wouldn't mean anything to Elizabeth, but he remembered the Silverton office. He remembered the three Constables there, including the one he had punched. At the time he regretted it a little, but looking back, it didn't seem like nearly enough. He remembered being hired out to the logging company with Mitch Yost, which was a complete violation of RCMP policy - recruits injured in the line of duty were supposed to be taken to dedicated RCMP hospitals or convalescent homes for treatment. He had a feeling that the Silverton office had downplayed his own injuries, because if the main branch of the RCMP knew what had happened to him and knew the severity of the damage they would have sent their own men to get him and take him to a facility. And they did it because of their involvement with the army and the way they had been bribed to look the other way as corrupt army officials embezzled from the war effort. He had lost two years of his life, and a wife had lost her husband and a son had lost his father, all because they were trying to cover their tracks.

"And this is all not to say anything about their shoddy equipment. Their telegraph and other lines of communication were down more often than they were up."

It had surpassed mere mistakes. What Jack and the recruits had done, rushing and putting on each other's coats, that was a mistake. What the Silverton Constables had done was both criminal negligence and obvious corruption. That combined with a massive rockslide in an isolated area made for a perfect storm of events that had left Joshua Miller misidentified, his family abandoned, and Jack crippled and shipped off to be a manual laborer for two years while Elizabeth and everyone else he knew and loved believed him dead.

Elizabeth didn't know what to say. She was glad that the truth had come out and there was closure for everyone involved.

"Has anyone found his wife yet?"

Jack finally had something to smile about. "Yes, as soon as we got his name right we found her and her son straight away. Apparently they've been insisting for years that Joshua was an RCMP member, but they kept being turned away because the names didn't match. The RCMP in Silverton actually accused her of trying to steal from them, they said she was trying to get a widow's package she wasn't entitled to. But we've contacted them, and they're on their way here now."

"What do they want to do? Do they want to exhume Joshua?"

"We asked them that, and they said no. They are actually going to settle here, in Hope Valley, where Joshua is buried and where there are work opportunities for his wife. And a great school for his son." When he said that last part he reached out and gently tapped Elizabeth on her nose in a playful gesture. "And she has already begun to receive Widow's Relief packages from the RCMP. They're giving her back pay for two years as well."

He took a deep breath, and concluded with, "So, all we're going to do is change the headstone."

Elizabeth smiled. It was all so awful, everything that had happened, but the mystery was finally solved for everyone. She vowed to herself that she would befriend Joshua's widow and that she and her son would become a part of their family. He had saved Jack's life. He was a hero and he deserved every honor that Hope Valley had to give him.

She reached out to hug Jack, and he held her tightly.

They stayed in an embrace for a minute or two. Without releasing it, Elizabeth said softly, "Have you decided what you're going to do?"

"About what?"

She pushed him away gently so she could look into his eyes. "About going with Nathan and Harry. About going to Silverton."

Jack swallowed hard. Elizabeth could see it in his eyes, clear as day. He really, really wanted to go.

"Before you say anything, you are not to use me as an excuse to stay home." She said to him rather abruptly.

"I'm not leaving you again, Elizabeth." He said back. "I promised you that I wouldn't when you were...well, when you were sick, and I won't break that promise."

"But...there's more to it than that. I'm..." his voice trailed off.

"You're what, Jack?"

"I'm...I'm afraid to go, Elizabeth. I keep thinking back to how I was in the beginning, how I was completely mad. I think about how I would go from happy to sad to angry in just moments. And that frightens me, to think about how if I went with them, I might be so overcome that I'd go back to being that way."

He then added quietly, "I remember how...how at one point, I think I almost hit you."

She stroked his cheek gently. "I remember that too. But you didn't."

He looked deeply into her eyes. "You know that I would never hurt you, ever." He whispered.

She nodded and smiled at him. "Of course I know that. But Jack, I don't think you need to be afraid anymore. Because I've seen the change in you. Everyone has. You're not the same person you were months ago. You've healed. And this Jack, that is sitting here right now, this is who you really are. And he is the most level-headed person I've ever met."

He smiled back at her, thinking about her words.

"I wasn't lying before either, I don't feel right leaving you. It's only been two weeks." He then added.

"You'll only be gone a few days. And I'm sure Lucas will look after me."

"Yes, I'm sure he will." Jack added sardonically. Elizabeth gave him a look, and he gave it right back to her, but then they both grinned and laughed. Lucas was a close family friend at this point and they both knew it, but that didn't change the fact that he was a notorious flirt with a soft spot for Elizabeth. Jack would always be a little antsy on that score.

"And I'm sure Nathan and Harrison will look after you." Elizabeth then continued. "So as long as you swear to me that you'll stay as far away from any areas where there might be rockslides, landslides, or any other kinds of slides, I will happily send you off with them."

Jack laughed a bit. "Don't worry. I'm not going off into the wilderness any time soon. The Silverton office is in the middle of a field, so I think I'll be fine."

She smiled at him. "Make sure that you are. We haven't come all this way just to be split up again."

He nodded. "I have your blessing, then? To go with them? To see these men brought to justice?"

She leaned in and brushed his lips with hers. "You always have my blessing, Jack."

He sighed a contented sigh and pulled her close to give her a stronger, more emphatic kiss. When they separated, they smiled at one another lovingly.

"We will be leaving in three days. Right after the funeral."

* * *

Joshua Miller's widow's name turned out to be Josephine Miller. She was everything Elizabeth expected her to be, and her son Colt, though only slightly over three years old, was proving to be an extremely bright little boy. He was going to make a scholar one day, Elizabeth proclaimed proudly, and she was so excited to have him join her classes. And he had also made fast friends with Little Jack, and Little Jack's parents and Josephine could tell that the two of them would get into all sorts of mischief as they grew up together.

Around Elizabeth and Jack, Josephine was obviously somewhat uncomfortable. That was no surprise to them; how comfortable could you be around the man that your husband had died in order to save? It was only natural for her to think why Jack had lived and Joshua had died, and Elizabeth didn't blame her for that. Jack tried to be as polite and chivalrous as possible, treating her with the utmost respect, and it seemed like with time, they all would warm up to one another. And Jack made a silent vow that, even if she never wanted to be friends with them, he would always look out for her and her son. He owed that to Joshua. It was a life debt, and Jack fully intended on paying that debt in full.

The funeral for Joshua Miller finally took place on a cold winter day. Despite being just a recruit and not a full-time Mounted Policeman, he was buried with full honors. And Jack's former headstone was removed and replaced with one that read:

"JOSHUA MILLER, 04/13/86 - 05/23/14. BELOVED HUSBAND AND FATHER. DIED IN THE SERVICE OF HIS COUNTRY AND HIS FELLOW MAN, WITH THE UTMOST BRAVERY AND SELFLESSNESS. TO GOD WE COMMEND HIS SPIRIT."

Despite the town having known such immense loss over the past few weeks, and despite everyone being so weary of death and sorrow, the funeral was still attended by every resident of Hope Valley. The respect they all held for this man was that great.


	21. Chapter 21 (final)

_This is the final chapter of this story. To all of my readers who have made it this far...how? How did you accomplish such a thing?_

_Thank you all. Thank you for coming on this journey with me. This was my vision of how I would do a hypothetical final season of WCTH. I have enjoyed writing this immensely, as having this creative outlet has gotten me through a very stressful time in my life. I have some ideas for some other WCTH stories, but I need to flesh them out in my head a bit more. So, I might be back._

_Special thanks to all of my reviewers, especially CJ61 for his/her very detailed reviews and messages, as well as Boston Strong Linda and Susie Thornton, for always writing reviews for pretty much every chapter. If you, reader, have written a review at any point...thank you. I read them all, and I will continue to read them. More reviews, both positive and constructively critical, are always welcome._

_Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Blessings to all. _

_With love, aWorldWithOctobers._

* * *

Christmas was always a special time in Hope Valley, but this particular year, it took on an even greater significance. It was a hard Christmas for many: it would be the first Christmas without their family members. Some of those family members were far away, having been sent to face the guns of war in Europe, and others had left the land of the living entirely. The graveyard had quite a few freshly dug plots and visitors to those plots could be seen at all hours of the day. Children cried for parents; parents cried for children. Husbands cried for wives and wives cried for husbands. It was a sad, melancholy time, and even those who had not experienced personal loss went about their lives carrying sadness on their shoulders, which they bore in sympathy for their friends and neighbors.

However, despite the crushing sadness, people still wanted to celebrate something. They wanted something to look forward to in the dark, short days. They wanted a little glimmer of light, a beacon that would give them hope. So, they cut down evergreen trees and decorated them. Wreaths were hung in doorways and adorned with red bows. Stockings were nailed above fireplaces. And candles were lit as soon as the sun began to go down.

Rosemary had never really experienced loneliness in her life. She had always been an extrovert and a social butterfly. Everywhere she went, she had friends. But she was one of the people who embraced Christmas particularly powerfully that year just because she did feel so lonely. Her and Lee's home was probably the most elaborately decorated, which she had done simply for something to do. But she eventually ran out of space to hang things up, and now she had no choice but to spend her nights alone in the house, drinking hot cups of cocoa and praying for Lee's safety.

This was one of those nights. A cold, dark night, where it was snowing yet again. She thought about going to the saloon just for some company, but she had already changed her clothes for bed and didn't want to get dressed again. So instead, she just curled up in bed and tried to read a book. Unsuccessfully.

She wanted him home. He didn't belong away at war. Lee was not a fighter. Lee was a peaceful man, a businessman, a man who loved taking care of his workers and keeping things organized. It made her laugh to think about how he would react to her decorating extravaganza - he wouldn't tell her she couldn't, because she knew he loved spoiling her, but he would probably hate it. It was too busy and overdone, not to his taste at all.

At last she gave up on trying to focus on her book and, deciding it was time to try to sleep, leaned over and blew out the candle that was next to the bed and put her book on the nightstand. She then wiggled down under the covers, tucked herself in, and took a deep breath. Her chin then began to tremble and a lump formed in her throat. This happened most nights these days. She didn't want to cry herself to sleep yet again, but she didn't think she could help it.

She lay there for a few minutes, but then was startled to hear what sounded like the door opening. She glanced over at the grandfather clock that stood not far from her bed; it read 10:30. Her heart sped up a bit at the prospect of an intruder. She couldn't imagine who it could be though, Hope Valley wasn't known for break-ins.

Slowly, she got out of bed. The floor creaked in the living room outside her door; there was definitely someone in the house. She looked around frantically for something she could use as a weapon, and eventually she picked up a broom. It wouldn't be the most effective means of defense but it was better than nothing.

Raising it above her head, she reached for the doorknob. But before she could turn it herself, it turned from the other side, and the door opened. She screamed, raised the broom up high, and prepared to bring it down to strike her assailant.

"WHOA! Whoa, whoa, Rosie..." A man's voice said.

Rosemary took a gasping breath and squinted. It was dark and she had trouble making out who exactly was standing in front of her. He was barrel chested and not particularly tall, with a round face, a short neck, and dark hair. He held his arms above his head, trying to protect himself. He looked at her with frightened eyes.

She then let out a cry. "Lee?" She asked.

The man lowered his arms a bit, looked at her for a second, then smiled. "Yes! Yes, it's me!"

She cried out again and dropped her broom, then tackled him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She sobbed a couple of times with both happiness and relief at the sight of him. He stood dumbfounded for a moment at the very rapid shift in circumstances, then wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Trying to kill me, Rosie?" He said with a laugh.

"If you had been anyone else, then yes!" She responded.

They stood there hugging one another for a minute, and when she released him, she reached out to stroke his cheeks. He grinned lovingly and joyously back at her.

"What are you doing here?" She asked.

"I don't know how it happened, but just as I was to be shipped off to France, they released me. Told me that it was better for the war effort for me to be part of at-home production, instead of fighting. They said I shouldn't have been drafted in the first place. And I have no idea why but the army official in charge of my unit was suddenly arrested, I heard possibly because of corruption."

"That's...that's quite a story, Lee." She didn't quite know how to respond. She wasn't involved in any of the recent RCMP investigations so she had no idea that Lee's drafting, and then sudden release from army service, were all connected to the army corruption that Nathan, Bill, and Harrison had been involved with for weeks. It was confusing for her, but she didn't care. He was home, and that was all that mattered.

"So...you're here for good? You don't have to go back?"

He smiled. "Here for good. Most of the other sawmill workers are back too. The army did keep a handful of us, saying they were good soldiers, but most were released and sent back for production work. They're probably doing exactly what we're doing now, meeting with their families."

Rosemary couldn't control the tears that now fell out of her eyes. It was a miracle. An absolute miracle.

She pulled him back into an embrace, and he returned it tightly. They both stood there crying, overjoyed to be reunited, for hours.

* * *

"This thing is so much more uncomfortable than I remember."

Nathan, who had been tending to the pack on his horse, looked over his shoulder. Jack was pulling at the red serge collar around his neck, trying in vain to loosen it. His face displayed his discomfort at having to wear the rough wool coat.

Nathan smiled. "You've been wearing flannel shirts and corduroy trousers for two years. Anything is uncomfortable compared to that."

Jack scowled. "I don't remember these being quite this bad though."

Nathan turned back to his horse and pack. "You'll get used to it."

Nathan, Jack, Harrison Porter, and five of Harrison's hand-picked mounties had stopped just outside of Silverton. It had been quite the enjoyable trip thus far. Harrison's mounties were mostly afraid of him and Nathan watched with amusement as he barked orders at them and berated them for their incompetence. Nathan almost felt bad for them, because he knew it was all a front. Harrison was a tough man, yes, but he relished being in a position where people were intimidated by him, and so he was playing a part. Deep down, Harrison was a teddy bear, and none of them had any idea. None of them except Jack, who unlike the rest of the mounties, never showed any signs of fear or intimidation. Instead, Jack mostly just seemed irritated by him. And Harrison, in turn, loved him for it. In fact, his obvious admiration for Jack was enough to almost make Nathan a little jealous.

"So. Are we ready to go?" Nathan heard Harrison's voice say behind him.

Nathan put his serious face on, as he knew the hour was upon them. "I'm ready if all of you are."

"I still can't believe you talked me into this." Jack mumbled.

"Oh, you're going to love it, you know you are." Harrison said to him, clapping him on the back. Jack gave him a side-eyed scowl.

"What are all of you doing? You look like a bunch of fifteen year olds trying on their father's uniforms!" He yelled at the other mounties. They all exchanged nervous glances, then reached to straighten up their red serge jackets and brush dirt off of their pants. "A little professionalism here, men, please. Not that I expect anything spectacular out of any of you." Harrison couldn't have sounded more aggravated.

Nathan had to stifle a laugh. "You enjoy that a little too much, you know." He said quietly to Harrison. "You say you hand-pick the best people, and then you treat them like something you stepped in."

Harrison glanced at him, and Nathan saw the corners of his mouth turned ever so slightly upwards. "I'm allowed to have a little fun, aren't I?" He said quietly back.

Jack walked away from the group just by a step or two, and he could see in front of them the small town of Silverton. He felt nervous. In fact, he felt like he was a lot of things: nervous at confronting the Constables and bringing old, bad memories back to the surface. Nervous at the idea that he might regress to what he had been before, someone with no control over his faculties. He was also nervous and distracted as he thought about Elizabeth and Little Jack, back at home, without him there to protect them. At the last minute, he had almost changed his mind about coming on this trip because he wanted to stay to keep an eye on them.

Elizabeth had had none of that though. She practically pushed him out the door, insisting that she needed a break from his overbearing presence. Lucas had promised to look in on them every day, and while Jack had made some comments at the time about how Lucas couldn't be trusted around a pretty woman (comments that nearly led him and Lucas to get into a tussle), deep down, he knew she was in good hands.

"You alright?" Jack heard a voice say behind him. He turned. It was Harrison.

He turned his gaze back towards the town, and particularly towards the building he knew housed the RCMP Constables. "I'm fine."

"It's not going to be easy, Thornton. I brought you here knowing that."

Jack didn't say anything in response.

"I wanted to see how you'd handle it. I think you're going to do better than you think you will, though."

"You should probably take away my pistol. You shouldn't have given me one in the first place. I'm not a -"

"Not a Constable anymore, yes, I know, as you keep reminding us. And as a member of the general public, you shouldn't be carrying RCMP issued arms."

Jack glanced at him. "Nor should I be wearing the uniform."

Harrison smiled slightly. "Yes, I know that too." Jack wearing the full RCMP uniform had been his idea; Jack had wanted to go in wearing civilian clothes, and it took quite a bit of persuading to convince him otherwise. "I just want to see them react to the sight of you. The madman from months back turning up looking every bit the rock-solid Mounted Policeman. It's going to make them wet themselves."

The corners of Jack's mouth curled into a tiny smile. Harrison certainly had an interesting sense of humor. And Jack had to admit, it was going to be fun, and it had been a long time since Jack had done anything purely for fun. Still, this was a serious matter, and Jack felt like injecting humor into the process took away from it, somehow. It made him feel unprofessional.

"Alright. Time to go." Harrison finally said. He motioned for his mounties and Nathan to follow him, which they did. Jack took up the rear position in the group, and they all made their way towards the RCMP building. Jack made sure to take deep breaths, trying to keep himself under control, as Harrison reached out and banged on the door.

It took a couple of seconds before one of the Constables opened the door. Jack recognized him immediately; it was the man he had punched. Constable Adam Newton. Jack's hands wanted to clench into fists, but he forced them to relax.

Constable Newton looked startled at the sight of so many mounties standing before him. But Harrison smiled at him reassuringly.

"Good day, Constable. My name is Major Constable Harrison Porter, and this is my associate, Constable Nathan Grant. And these," he gestured to the five mounties and Jack standing behind him, "are members of my squad. We are very pleased to make your acquaintance, Constable...?"

"Um." The Constable struggled to find his words. "Newton."

"Constable Newton. Lovely. So wonderful to finally meet you, I've heard a great deal about you." Harrison said with a wide smile.

It took every ounce of Nathan's strength to look serious, as he wanted to laugh so badly. Harrison was being warm, congenial, and friendly, which in fact meant that he was at his most dangerous. He was a cat playing with his mouse before devouring it.

"May we come in?" Harrison said with a grin.

"Um, please." The Constable opened the door wider, allowing all of the men to pass through it. Jack glanced at him as he walked through the door, but the Constable showed no signs of recognizing him at all.

"So. I understand that you are not the sole Constable at this post, is that correct?" Harrison said, his tone still incredibly friendly.

"No sir, I'm not. My two colleagues are just out back. Shall I fetch them to see you?" Constable Newton responded.

"Please do! We are anxious to meet with them as well!" Harrison responded. Nathan glanced back at Jack, who exchanged a knowing look with him.

Constable Newton left the room for a moment, then returned with two other men. Jack felt his jaw clench. Constable Richard Keller and Constable Frank Gray. They looked around at the group of Constables in front of them, and they looked uncomfortable. But, like Constable Newton, neither of them seemed to recognize Jack.

"Gentleman. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Major Constable Harrison Porter. These are my associates. We've come here on an urgent matter."

The three Silverton Constables looked at each other nervously.

"Just tell us how we can help you, Major Constable." One of them said, his voice sounding a bit apprehensive.

Harrison smiled widely at them. "Tell me gentlemen, do any of you recognize this gentleman right here?" He pointed at Jack. Jack shot him a look of surprise. They had discussed how they would go about arresting the men several times, and this was not what they had talked about.

The three Constables looked at one another, then over at Jack, then back at each other. They all slightly shook their heads, indicating that they did not, in fact, recognize Jack.

"Well. That's a shame. Because he's ultimately the reason why all of you are under arrest!" Harrison said in a booming voice.

The Constables visibly started. Jack's eyes widened and he looked at Harrison; now it wasn't the Constables he wanted to punch, but rather the Major Constable himself. What the hell was he trying to do?

Nathan took a couple of small, silent steps to the side of the Constables, and Harrison's mounties followed his lead. They were surrounding the Constables in case they tried to run. The room immediately took on a very thick air of tension.

"Jack. Will you please remove your hat?" Harrison said. He wasn't looking at Jack; instead, he was staring directly into the eyes of Constable Newton. Jack still didn't know what Harrison was trying to do, but he complied, and pulled his wide-brimmed hat off of his head.

"How about now, gentlemen? Still don't recognize him?" Harrison said, his voice getting darker.

The Constables studied him harder this time. Still, they did not recognize anything familiar about Jack.

Harrison sighed. "Terrible observation skills, all of you. Really, really dreadful. I wish I could send you to prison for that alone. Oh well, I guess I'm just going to have to settle for corruption."

The three Constables looked shocked. But they started to find their voices a bit.

"Corruption, sir? I think you may be mistaking us for someone else." One of them said defensively.

Harrison laughed. "You know, it is very funny that you put it that way." Nathan bit his lip to keep from laughing at the irony of the statement as well.

"I think it's time to put you three out of your misery. The man you see standing before you is named Constable Jack Thornton. He is a resident of Hope Valley, a town about four days ride from here. He lives there with his wife and son. And you all have met him before, I assure you. He was briefly a guest of yours about four months ago. He had longer hair and a bit of a wilder disposition at the time. I believe he even struck one of you. I wish I had been there to see it."

The three Constables were all staring at Jack now. He stared back and didn't move a muscle.

"Still don't see it? My but you are slow. Some more information about Constable Thornton: he was for a time known as Joshua Miller, and was employed by the logging company you work with around here. He had received quite a bad head injury a couple of years ago and it made him into a bit of a simpleton. He was hired out to the logging company, under the direction of a Mitch...Mitch...Jack, what was his last name again?"

"Yost." Jack replied without feeling.

"Yost, that was it. He will be hearing from us as well. I think we'll leave Jack home for that one though."

Jack shifted his gaze to look briefly at Harrison. Harrison hadn't mentioned that to him, but even Harrison knew that it would be a bad idea for him to go along on that trip. There was no way he would ever be able to go back up into the hills, at least not for years, without being overcome by memories.

The Constables eyes widened, and everyone in the room knew they were slowly starting to understand.

"Joshua Miller, sadly, is no longer with us. He was buried with full honors in Hope Valley. And Constable Thornton here has been receiving excellent medical care, care that he should have received years ago. But he didn't receive that care because of you. Because you have been involved in corrupt bargains involving embezzlement from the army, and you didn't want to draw any attention to yourselves. You shipped him, an injured Mountie, off to be a manual laborer for years, so that you could continue to pocket kickbacks from army officials. You stole his life from him, all because you wanted money."

A terrible silence fell over the room. No one was laughing now.

Harrison paused for a moment before adding, "I really do not know how Constable Thornton hasn't withdrawn his pistol and shot you all dead by now. I probably would have, if I were in his position. His self-control right now is a wonderful testament to his moral character. Wouldn't you agree, Constable Grant?"

"I absolutely would, Major Constable." Nathan said without missing a beat.

The Constables had heard enough. They glanced briefly at one another, then turned and tried to run out the back of the room. They didn't get very far. Nathan and the other mounties easily overtook them and shoved them to the ground, pinning their arms behind them. The Constables shouted in protest, and Nathan and the other mounties shouted back. In fact, Nathan seemed to be rather angry. Angrier than Jack, or Harrison, or anyone else for that matter, had ever seen him appear before. It wasn't Jack who seemed to be having trouble controlling his emotions in this situation; it was Nathan. Nathan Grant, the one who never showed any emotions, ever, was more overcome than the man who had actually bore the brunt of these men's crimes.

It was a smooth process from there on. The Constables were hauled to their feet, handcuffed, and put into the prison wagon that the group had brought with them. The group was on the road just as soon as they had arrived, headed back first to Hope Valley, at which point the imprisoned Constables would be sent east for trial.

Jack could feel them all staring at him for the entire duration of the trip home. They still couldn't believe that this man, this polished man who embodied the virtues of calmness and self-control, could possibly be the same wild individual who had seemed barely human when they had dealt with him months ago. But Jack himself didn't even glance at them once. He wouldn't deny that he had enjoyed seeing them arrested, but it was over now. Now, he just stared straight ahead, his mind fully focused on how eager he was to be back home.

* * *

"I'll take a bowl of chili, please."

Lucas raised an eyebrow and turned to look over his shoulder. He immediately grinned at the sight of Elizabeth, who stood there holding Little Jack by the hand. She was dressed warmly, with a thick wool coat on, and her hair was covered with a dusting of snow.

"You look like you need it. It's cold out there!" He replied. He rapped his hands on the bar a couple of times, then motioned for her to sit down, which she did.

"I'll go get it. Be right back. And what about you, little man? What will be your supper this evening?" He said as he crouched down to be at eye's level with Little Jack.

"Soup!" was Little Jack's reply. He shouted it, in the way that two year olds with no concept of an indoor voice often did.

"Soup?!" Lucas boomed back. "Soup?!" he repeated, reaching out to tickle Little Jack. Little Jack giggled as he did. "It's your lucky day, little man. Got a fresh batch of chicken and rice soup with your name on it!"

Elizabeth smiled at them both. Lucas stood up, smiled back, then went to the back room to fetch their orders.

Elizabeth then sighed, removed her coat, and hung it on the back of her chair. She looked around the room at the people. It was a lively evening indeed, as she had suspected it would be. Four days ago Lee and the majority of the men who had been taken by the army had arrived back home, having been released from active service. They should never have been enlisted in the first place, considering most of them were not in prime (or even good) physical condition, but she was still surprised, as older men and men with injuries being taken by the army weren't uncommon now that the war was dragging on. But now, nearly all of them were home, and reunited with their friends and families. Many had come to the saloon every night since their arrival in order to celebrate, and tonight was no exception. And to add to the crowds, Harrison's mounties still had not left town, as they were waiting for the Major Constable to return. They had made themselves quite comfortable and took advantage of his absence to relax a bit. They were a handsome and gentlemanly bunch, and more than a few women of the town openly flirted with them, which they happily reciprocated.

Lucas returned with two bowls, two generous chunks of bread, and a glass of milk for Little Jack and a hot mug of cider for Elizabeth. She scoffed a bit at the sight of it, as she normally didn't consume alcohol, but Lucas just winked at her. "Our little secret," he said, before she had a chance to argue.

"Can you sit for a minute to chat, or are you too busy?" She asked him.

"I always have time for you." He replied. He pulled out a chair and sat down. As he did so, he asked, "How are you feeling? In any pain, or had any headaches?"

"Breathing hurts a bit, but my head is fine."

He nodded. "Yeah, unfortunately it's going to hurt for some time. Not much we can do about that. It just needs to be given time to heal."

"I know. I'm allowed to complain a bit though. And Jack isn't here to hear it, so, you get to listen. Sorry about that."

"A-ha...so that's why you wanted to talk. You wanted someone to feel sorry for you!" He gave her a devilish look.

She laughed. "Don't worry, he should be back any day now. I got a telegram from them saying they're on their way home. So you won't have to deal with me much longer."

"Oh I'm well aware of that. It's probably more accurate though to say, you won't have to deal with me too much longer."

Elizabeth's face fell. She knew that the subject of Lucas leaving was unavoidable, but it still made her sad to think about it.

"Speaking of which," she said, her voice much quieter, "are you all ready to go?"

He gave her a reassuring smile. "All ready. I leave in two weeks. I'll be here for the New Year, and then I head to Edmonton for the spring term."

Elizabeth silently scolded herself for her mixed emotions. She was immensely proud of Lucas and she told him so every time she saw him. Medicine was his calling, it was what he was meant to do, and she couldn't be happier that he had finally decided to return to school to complete his degree. But she couldn't help but think how she would miss him terribly. He had become such a dear friend, not just to her, but to Little Jack and, she suspected, to Big Jack as well. She wondered how long it would be before she saw him again. If it were just the spring term, that was only a few months, she would be alright with that, but would he ever come back?

"We will miss you, Lucas." She said quietly. She was trying not to burst into tears, so instead she put on a fake smile. She still had two weeks left with him and she was determined to be cheerful during that time. Especially considering that Christmas was just a few days away, and then New Year's after that. She didn't want to put a damper on the holiday season by being sad.

Lucas smiled back, but his smile was much more reserved and melancholy. "I will miss you all. You especially. And you, little man!" He said down to Little Jack, who was slurping his soup out of his giant spoon.

"But then again, I won't be gone all that long." Lucas said, his voice sounding cheerier.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to question what he meant, but before she could, the main doors opened loudly and she could hear many saloon patrons cheer. She and Lucas both turned to look, and standing there were Nathan, Harrison, Jack, and the handful of mounties they had brought with them. They all looked tired and dirty but relieved to be coming in from the cold.

"Papa!" Little Jack shouted. He jumped down from his chair and went running towards Jack, who couldn't have looked happier to see him. He bent down and engulfed Little Jack in an enormous hug, squeezing him tightly. Harrison and Nathan looked pleased at the sight of father and son reunited.

Elizabeth also stood up, and she went rushing over to Jack. The two of them smiled enormous smiles at one another, then leaned in to kiss each other.

"Alright, alright, that's enough you two." Lucas said from behind them. He crossed his arms over his chest and feigned displeasure at the sight of the public display of affection, but he was also wearing a smile that was almost as big as theirs.

"So, you managed not to kill yourselves on this trip. I had my doubts." Lucas said.

"We didn't even come close to it, don't worry. If anything I was hoping for a bit more excitement." Nathan responded.

Elizabeth gave him a dirty look. "I never want to hear you say that again. I've had enough excitement from all of you for one lifetime." She said, frowning at him.

Lucas then noticed that Harrison's mounties were eyeing the food that many patrons were eating. "Well, I'm sure you all haven't had a decent meal in days, take a seat and I'll get you something." The mounties immediately did as he said. Nathan, Harrison, Elizabeth, and Jack all walked over to the table where Elizabeth and Little Jack had been sitting.

"He looks happy." Nathan said, watching Lucas go around to the various mounties to chat and take their orders.

"He is happy. I've never seen him this happy, honestly."

"When does he leave, do we know?" Jack said.

Elizabeth nodded. "Two weeks. Right after the New Year."

"This is the Doctor you were telling me about, the one who is going back to school to finish?" Harrison inquired of Nathan.

"Lucas, yes. He's the one I said went to the site of the outbreak, and then treated people after the landslide."

"Quite a man, it sounds like." Harrison responded. "I wonder if we'd ever get him to join the Mounties. The RCMP needs doctors too."

Nathan shrugged. He couldn't see Lucas as a Constable. Lucas wasn't a big fan of rules and regulations. "You could ask, I guess." Was all he said in reply.

The four of them all chatted for a while. Elizabeth got the full run down of what had occurred in Silverton; she looked at Jack proudly when Nathan described how Jack had been a pinnacle of professionalism during the arrest of the corrupt Constables there. Jack didn't say much on that subject, he just looked at his feet, seeming almost shy about the whole thing. Everyone knew he was being modest, which was just like him. They also discussed the journey, which had been uneventful, and what she had been up to in Hope Valley. They also discussed Bill, who had recovered enough to go home and who Abigail was carefully nursing back to health. Nathan and Jack exchanged a look at the sound of that, and Elizabeth knew what they were thinking. She had long ago given up on the idea of anything happening between Abigail and Bill, but now, her hopes had been slightly rekindled. They did seem to be spending an awful lot of time together in the aftermath of his being shot, and she hoped that they could find happiness together.

Lucas eventually returned after serving hot meals to Harrison's exhausted mounties. Elizabeth was right, Jack noticed; Lucas was absolutely glowing with happiness. He brought meals to Nathan, Jack, and Harrison as well, which they accepted with great thanks. They were all incredibly sick of trail food, and a bowl of soup and fresh bread seemed like heaven.

"So two weeks, huh?" Nathan inquired.

Lucas looked at him and nodded. "Two weeks."

"Are you excited? You must be." Jack said.

"I'm excited, yes. And nervous. But mostly excited." Lucas said.

"Don't be nervous. You're ready for this." Jack responded.

"I think so. I hope so, anyway."

"Have you given any thought to what comes after you finish?" Harrison chimed in. Nathan shot him a look that said '_Don't push it._' Harrison was never one to beat around the bush, he was a very direct person, but this was jumping the gun a little bit, even for him.

"Because if you haven't, you know, the mounties are always looking for medics." Harrison added.

Lucas stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. Everyone else at the table looked at each other somewhat awkwardly.

"Something funny, son?" Harrison said, his voice a bit darker. Harrison loved laughing at other people; he didn't so much enjoy being laughed at himself.

Lucas eventually got his laughter under control. "Me, a mountie? And get sent to some posting a thousand miles north of here and live in a hut for years on end? Thanks, but no thanks."

"Not everyone gets remote postings you know." Jack said. "Look at Nathan. And for that matter, look at how many get posted to cities, like Toronto."

"Or Calgary, like my group." Harrison added.

"I think I'd prefer going a thousand miles north to those two." Nathan added under his breath.

Lucas shook his head. "No, I don't think a life in uniform is for me. And red was never my color. But besides, I've already got a position once I finish."

Elizabeth perked up. She had been dreading this. She hoped he wasn't about to say he would be going to a place where she'd never see him again.

"Oh? And where is that?" She said. She tried not to sound too eager for his response but she didn't think she could help it.

"I'll be coming back here, of course." He said, grinning at her. Everyone's mouth dropped open.

"Yes, I've already spoken about it with the mayor, meaning, with Abigail. She says Faith does a wonderful job, but that Hope Valley is growing, and it's time it got a full time physician. So, I'll be coming back, and I'll still be managing the saloon, but will take patients as they come in. My kinda life if you ask me...two forms of medicine, and I get to be responsible for both."

His joke made Harrison laugh, but Jack, Elizabeth, and Nathan were all too surprised to get it.

"So...you'll be staying here?" Jack asked.

Lucas gave him a grin. "You didn't think you'd get rid of me that easily, did you?"

* * *

Christmas came, and it was beautiful. On Christmas Eve night, everyone gathered together at the church for a service, and it was the most poignant one in recent memory. They prayed for the souls of those who had been lost to the landslide and the outbreak. They prayed for a peaceful resolution to the war in Europe. They prayed for the newest local hero, Joshua Miller, and for the safe keeping of his widow and child. And they sang carols and lit candles and exchanged hugs before retiring to their homes. On Christmas Day, the entire town smelled like mulled wine and roast turkey, and children ran back and forth between houses to show off what they had received. It was a holiday, and a celebration, that everyone desperately needed.

Then came New Year's. And just as on Christmas, everyone gathered to pray. They then formed a crowd at the saloon, and counted down from ten until the clock struck midnight. They all kissed and cheered and sang Auld Lang Syne, bidding each other good health and good fortune in the new year. Harrison and his garrison of mounties had stayed through New Year's Day, as he believed that it would do his overworked men to have a holiday in the country. They relished it. They befriended the townspeople, drank and danced and sang in the saloon, and more than a few young men found themselves promising a local Hope Valley young lady that they would write to her, and they would come to see her again soon. It was usually spring that was associated with romance, but in Hope Valley, winter seemed to be the season of true love.

And finally, January 4th. The day of Lucas' departure. Once again, everyone gathered in the center of town, preparing to say goodbye to the man they had known as the charming, well-dressed, and handsome owner of the saloon, who had turned out to be a miracle worker. He wouldn't be gone all that long, they knew that, it would only be four or five months, but he had become everyone's best friend, and even a duration of that length felt like a lifetime. It was a day of both joy and sadness for everyone; they were so happy for him, and at the way he was moving on with his life, but his absence would be deeply felt by all.

Well-wishers had been coming and going all morning, but Lucas finally found himself with a free moment to himself. He stood behind the bar in the saloon and looked around the room. It was quiet and peaceful, and he took it all in. He would miss the town as much as the town would miss him. He was now trying to form a complete mental image of the bar, a place where he had spent so much of his life, as he knew the happy memory would sustain him through the difficult months ahead.

His moment alone was short lived though. The doors to the saloon opened, and in walked Nathan and Jack.

"Stagecoach is all loaded up and ready." Nathan said.

Lucas nodded. It was finally time to go.

When he looked up though, he noticed Jack scratching his arm. Lucas scowled immediately; it was Jack's smallpox vaccination, it had scabbed over. The second Elizabeth had recovered her memory and things began to go back to normal, he had forced everyone in Hope Valley who had not had smallpox during their life to undergo vaccination. Jack was one of the first people he inoculated.

"Don't pick at that!" He chastised Jack, swatting away his hand.

"It itches!"

"Tough! Just deal with it." They exchanged a hateful look, which made Nathan smirk. Jack and Lucas were both such proud men, and Nathan knew they wouldn't always get along. But still, a lifelong friendship was there, and everyone knew it.

Lucas forced himself to turn serious again though. He had something that he needed to say, and this was his last chance to say it.

"Jack. Before I leave, there's something I need to say to you." Lucas said. Jack looked back at him inquisitively.

Lucas took a deep breath. "I need to say that I'm sorry. For the way I treated you when you first came back."

Jack smiled. "No apologies necessary. I wasn't at my best then either, that's for sure."

"You had a good excuse. I didn't." Lucas replied. "I was jealous. I admit it. Not just of your family, and how fortunate you are in that regard, but of how everyone treated you. I envied you. I envied your position here."

"I don't have a position here anymore. I'm just a father and a husband. And you're already the great doctor, the stuff of local legend. I think it's safe to say you've surpassed me."

Lucas smiled. "Well, I don't think that's true, but still. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how I behaved. And I hope when I return, you'll greet me as a friend."

Jack scowled. "That, I'm afraid, I can't do. We're not friends, Lucas."

Nathan and Lucas stared at him. Jack had immediately turned cold and serious.

"You tried to help me when I was sick. Actually, forget that - you _did_ help me when I was sick. You got me to think about things I never would have considered without you. Then, you saved my wife's life, along with the lives of dozens of others. And I know that if things had been different, and if I had never returned, that Elizabeth would have been in good hands with you."

He continued, "I remember telling her once, in a letter I wrote that was to be given to her if I died in service, that I wanted her to try to find love again. If it had been you, then she would have chosen well."

Lucas just kept staring at him.

Jack smiled a tiny smile at him now. "We're not friends, Lucas. We're brothers."

The sound of that made Lucas and Nathan both grin and laugh a bit to themselves, and Lucas had to swallow a lump that formed in his throat. "I think you're going to make him cry, Jack." Nathan said in a teasing tone.

"Never." Lucas replied. But he and Jack found themselves pulling each other into a hug. They were brothers. Brothers from that moment forward.

The door to the saloon then opened again, and a random townsperson poked his head in. "Lucas, they're ready for you. Time to get going."

Lucas looked at him and nodded. "Coming." He then took one last long look around the saloon, committing it to memory. He then reached for his coat and hat and slowly walked out the door. It wasn't goodbye, it was only goodbye for now; still, he would miss the old place.

Before following him, Nathan turned to Jack. "That was nice of you."

"I meant every word."

Nathan and Jack then began to stroll towards the door. "You know though, you do still have a position here. If you want it." Nathan said.

Jack smiled at him somewhat wistfully. "No, I don't. It's yours now."

"Well, about that. I'll stay, of course, if you are really and truly done with the Corps, but...Harry and I have been talking. He wants me to take over Silverton. At least temporarily. Someone has to take it, now that its previous Constables have been, shall we say, relieved of duty? Which means the posting here will be open for you, and Harry wants you to take it. He adores you, by the way, in case you didn't know."

Jack was surprised and stopped walking. Nathan stopped as well, and the two regarded each other.

"We did want you to see the men from Silverton arrested, Jack. We thought it would be good for you. But you coming along was also more than that. Harry wanted to see how you'd act. He wanted to see if you'd just immediately lose yourself. We knew there was an outside chance that that could happen, and that you'd fly into a rage. But you didn't. You were probably the steadiest person there." Nathan continued.

"It was a test." Jack said back as he realized what had occurred. Nathan nodded.

"And you passed it. With flying colors."

Jack fell silent. In retrospect, he was surprised that he hadn't even thought of the fact that Harry might be testing him, to see if he was really and truly healed from everything. For months Jack had thought he would never go back to being a Constable precisely because he didn't think he'd ever be the same again, and that he couldn't be trusted to be level-headed in tense situations. But this had been probably the most challenging scenario he'd ever be in, confronting the men who had stolen his life from him. And he hadn't wanted to hit them, shoot them, or anything like that. He just wanted justice, not only for himself, but for Joshua and his family as well. It hadn't only been himself who had suffered because of their crimes. And deep within his heart, he felt a sense of pride in how he behaved, because he knew that was what he should want. Revenge was a futile pursuit. Justice never was.

He spoke slowly. "So, in this hypothetical scenario, you'd go to Silverton? Is that what you want? I thought you loved it here."

"I do love it here. And I'd be back often, don't worry. But you belong here, Jack. No one else can lead this town like you."

Jack didn't know what to say, so he just stayed silent.

"Think about it. And don't worry about me. I'll be fine. It's funny, I used to avoid people. I didn't want to get attached, because I wanted to protect myself, and you know why. I don't do that anymore. And I think I have you to thank for that. You and Lucas. Because I've seen what it looks like when great men face challenges head on. Lucas is moving forward, and so are you. I think it's time I did too."

Nathan turned to walk out of the saloon. Jack just watched him as he put his mountie hat on his head.

"Lucas is a brother to you, and you to him. And you both are brothers to me as well. And there isn't a soul alive who values family more than me." Nathan said as he opened the door and passed through it.

* * *

Nathan's words were still ringing in Jack's ears when he heard the crowds start to cheer out on the street. Brushing aside his own personal considerations for a moment, he rushed out of the saloon. There, he saw Lucas shaking hands with a number of people that had gathered around him to wish him well.

The crowds parted at one point just slightly, and Elizabeth seized her moment. She brushed past a few other people, and stood face to face with Lucas. She was already fighting tears, and she hadn't even said anything yet.

"You promised me you'd write." She said firmly. Lucas looked at her lovingly and nodded.

"And you promised me you would write." He replied.

"When does the term start?"

"Three weeks. Enough time for me to get settled. And to visit an old friend."

It took Elizabeth a second to understand what he was referring to, but then it dawned on her. "Your friend from the accident. You've decided to see him."

Lucas nodded. "I've written to him. And he wrote me back immediately. Said he's happy to hear from me, and that he wants to see me."

Elizabeth felt her eyes filling with tears. "He's going to be so glad of it. And so will you."

"I hope so." Was all Lucas could think to say in response. He knew very well that the visit would be sad, and hard, and emotional, but it was time to do it. It was time to face his past, and then move forward.

Lucas reached up to brush a tear from her cheek. "I'm so proud of you, Lucas. I'm so furiously proud." She said as he touched her.

He smiled and pulled her into a tight hug. "You have a lot to do with this, you know. You and Jack." He whispered to her.

They stayed in a hug together for a moment, then Lucas could hear in the background that the stagecoach driver was getting anxious to leave. The two untangled each other, somewhat reluctantly, from their embrace, and Lucas touched her cheek one last time with his thumb to brush tears away. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, then released her and jumped into the stagecoach.

Elizabeth then walked over to Jack's side. He was holding Little Jack.

"Say bye-bye, Uncle Lucas!" Jack said to Little Jack, in a voice loud enough that Lucas could hear him. He showed Little Jack how to wave, and Little Jack followed his lead, furiously waving his tiny arm.

"Bye bye Uncle Lucas!" Little Jack shouted.

"Goodbye little man! I'll miss you! And tell your Daddy you want a little brother or sister as a late Christmas present!" That comment drew catcalls and whistles from the crowd; Jack blushed a bit and laughed in response.

The driver snapped the reins, and the stagecoach began to roll away. The crowd let out a yell, screaming, "Good luck!" and "We will miss you!" and "Come back soon!" And as the stage moved along the road, Lucas leaned out the window, all the while waving his hands, grinning, and now, wiping tears from his own face. He shouted well-wishes in response and again and again said he would be back in time for the first days of summer.

Elizabeth was the only silent person in the crowd. She couldn't bring herself to call out anything to him. She just stood there, her eyes brimming with tears, as she watched the stagecoach leave town. Jack noticed her expression, and reached to take her hand in his. She squeezed his hand, but didn't look at him. She just kept looking at the stage until it was finally gone.

* * *

People loitered for some time following Lucas' departure, but the bitter cold and darkness of early January chased them all home. Jack, Elizabeth, and Little Jack had been some of the first to depart. They walked in silence to Elizabeth's house, where Jack went to the woodpile to retrieve a few logs to place in the woodstove. He found himself hit with a sense of nostalgia as he regarded the house from outside of it. He saw the smoke rising from the chimney and the glow of the candlelight within it, and he thought of all of the memories they had associated with this house. It wouldn't be long before they moved into the cabin, and he was excited for it, and for the next chapter of their lives, but still. He was going to miss this tiny, cramped, cozy little abode.

They ate dinner without really saying much; they were all too lost in their own thoughts. They then played with Little Jack a bit, and finally put him to bed. They were just about to retire themselves when there was a small knock on the front door.

Opening it, Elizabeth saw Nathan, still dressed in his mountie uniform. He never seemed to take it off, even late at night. But Jack exclaimed at the sight of him, because right next to him stood a very tired, very fat, and very old looking basset hound.

"Rip!" Jack shouted. "Rip old buddy!"

Rip may have been old, but he wasn't so old as to not recognize his best friend in the world. He barked once, then trotted to Jack's side, where he received very enthusiastic belly rubs and ear scratches.

"Sorry it took me so long to bring him by. I got used to having him around." Nathan said. "But, he's back where he belongs."

Elizabeth looked up at Nathan, who was smiling and watching Jack pet Rip. Nathan looked very happy for them.

"Would you like to come in?" She asked.

"No. It's late. I'm surprised you two aren't in bed already." He replied. "I'll be going. I'll see you both around town."

"Nathan!" Jack called out. "Thank you. Thank you for bringing him."

"You're welcome." He then looked at Elizabeth, smiled, and tipped his hat. "Ma'am."

Elizabeth closed the door behind him. "He's right, Jack, it is late. We should go to bed."

Jack didn't seem interested in going to sleep though. He was too overjoyed to be reunited with his beloved dog.

"Jack?"

Jack looked up, somewhat reluctantly.

"You can bring him into bed with us. Just this once though, don't make a habit of this." She said, teasingly, even though she knew that now Jack had him back, Rip would be sleeping in their room probably for the rest of his life.

Jack happily gestured for Rip to follow him upstairs. He curled up at the foot of the bed while Elizabeth and Jack changed into sleeping clothes. Jack had gotten into bed, and Elizabeth was just about to blow out the candle when she noticed something on the nightstand next to the bed.

"What's this?" She said, picking it up.

He looked at it. "That old music box. Do you remember it?"

It took a second, but then Elizabeth smiled. "Yes. I remember you said you listened to this when you were on post once. It made you think of home."

He reached out for it, and she handed it to him. "And do you remember how I told you it was what woke me up? Because of the memories I had with it?"

"I do. I do remember you saying that."

He closed it again, and placed it back on the nightstand. He then reached out a hand, beckoning her to come closer. She took his hand in hers and sat on the edge of the bed.

"What do you think it was that brought you back, Elizabeth? Was there something like this? Some trinket, or something like that? You never told me."

"No, it wasn't one thing." Elizabeth's voice became wistful as she thought back to that night when she recovered her own memory. "It was the whole town itself."

"What do you mean?"

"I went for a walk through town. That night...it was the middle of the night, I should have been asleep, but I had to walk. I had to get out of here. I don't know what possessed me."

"I still hate that you did that. I've never been so scared in my life to find you missing." Jack said, poking her with his finger. He meant it as a playful gesture, but his words were deadly serious.

She disregarded him. "And I went into town, and looked at all the buildings. The saloon, the RCMP building, and the school. And I had all of these memories in my head. I wasn't sure if they were my memories, or someone else's. I mean, now I know that they were mine, but at the time, it was just confusing."

"I know. It was the same for me. You see things in your mind, but you don't know if they're real, or just a dream." He said softly, thinking back to what it was like for him.

"And all the while, I heard things. I heard your voice, over and over again. Things you had said to me during our lives. Sweet things, romantic things, funny things. And then..." her voice trailed off as she laughed a bit.

"And then?"

"And then I was in the cabin. It's beautiful, by the way, and I can't wait until we move in. But I was there, looking around, and I think I saw a ghost of you. It was from when we were young, and you made fun of my black eye. Do you remember that? That night you came here, when it was Abigail's house? She invited you for dinner, and I opened the door. You told me, 'Nice shiner' and asked if I had my bags packed yet. You wanted so badly to get rid of me, and to get on with your life."

Jack laughed a little bit as well. "I think I do remember that, actually. Not one of my better moments."

"It's funny, thinking about it now. I like that we have some memories like that, from our early days. I liked you even then, I just didn't want to admit it."

He stroked her hand with his thumb. "I liked you too. Very, very much." He said softly.

She then blew out the candle and laid down, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder and stretching an arm out to hug his chest. He wrapped his arms around her in turn. Their bodies melted into each other.

"And I saw your drawings. Your sketchbook, it was on the table. I saw all the drawings of me, of our friends and family. And the one you did of yourself, the self portrait, where you showed your scar."

Jack drew in a deep breath. "I never meant for anyone to see that one. I did it when I was at my worst. When I thought I was losing my mind." Jack whispered.

"It was beautiful, Jack. Terrible, but beautiful. It's a piece of you. And I'm glad I got to see it." She whispered back.

"And at some point, everything just started to fall into place. The memory of you when we first met, when you hated me. The drawings of everyone in our lives. And walking through the town, seeing all of the buildings, and thinking of everyone we love. It all just started to make sense. The fog lifted. And then before I knew it, I was running home, and then I saw you."

Jack sighed. "Why do you think it happened, Elizabeth? Why do think we both went through this? Do you think it's just chance, just bad luck, or was there something deeper going on?"

Elizabeth also sighed. "I don't really know, but I like to think it happened so that we could, maybe understand each other? So that we wouldn't feel alone, and we would feel like there was someone who knew what it was like? Maybe we both needed that to completely heal. And maybe there is something deeper in that. Maybe it's fate, or maybe it's God. I don't know. But I don't think it was chance."

They both drifted into silence for a time. Neither one slept though, they just stayed curled up together, feeling each other's warmth, and being grateful that they were together.

But before she was able to pass into the dream world, Elizabeth had one more thing to ask him.

"Jack? Are you still awake?"

"Yes, I'm awake."

"What are you going to do about the RCMP? Nathan told me, Harrison wants you to join his group."

Jack sighed. He wasn't entirely sure if he was ready to discuss this, since in all honesty, he didn't think he knew the answer.

"I don't know. I won't lie to you, I've been thinking about it. About going back. But I'd never do anything without talking to you first."

He then repeated something he found himself saying a lot lately. "It's not just about me anymore."

Elizabeth smiled but didn't move. "No, it isn't. But how many times have you told me, Jack, that this is your calling. It's who you are, and it's where you belong. And I think at some point, you're going to start to miss it."

"I don't want to hurt you again. And I want to grow old with you, Elizabeth. I want to see our son grow up. I've missed so much with him already. I don't want to die young."

And then he added, "Like my father."

That last comment was something Jack had been thinking about quite a bit. His father had been the same age as he was now when he passed away. It made him think about just how much he would have liked to have him there as he was growing up. He didn't want Little Jack to go through the same thing. Moreover, nor did he want to miss any moment of his son's life. Being a father himself had given him a completely different perspective on his relationship with his own father.

Elizabeth then sat up so she could look into his eyes. "I think Harrison knows that. I think he'll mostly keep you out of harm's way. But even if he doesn't...you can't eliminate risk in life, Jack. Life itself is a risk. And part of living is accepting that. And I would never want to take that away from you, ever."

He reached up and pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. "He wants me to take up my old post here again."

He then looked deeply into her eyes. "I'll only do it if I have your blessing." He said.

She curled up on his chest again. "What did I tell you before? You always have my blessing. Always."

And then she smiled. "Constable Thornton once more."

He turned his head to look at her. "Do you think we could dispense with the Constable, and could I persuade you to just call me Jack?" He said with a twinkle in his eye.

She laughed a bit at the sound of another one of their earliest conversations, from all of those years ago in the saloon. They were both older and so very much had changed, and yet, he would always be the same person to her, and she to him. He was the stubborn, fastidious, and slightly arrogant but kindhearted mountie, and she was the pampered but brilliant schoolteacher who somehow managed to build a life in the wilds of the west.

She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. "And you may call me Elizabeth."


End file.
